


Azula Apart

by HowILearnedToLoveTheBomb



Series: As A Whole [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, F/F, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), Political Intrigue, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26354431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowILearnedToLoveTheBomb/pseuds/HowILearnedToLoveTheBomb
Summary: Personal is political, especially for Princess Azula.Set following Azula's escape from the asylum and her journey across the Fire Nation, Azula arrives alone and friendless in the Earth Kingdom, looking to carve out a purpose for a former child general in a post-war world.Post canon Fire Nation political intrigue ft Tyzula slowburnIt can be read independent of All That Remains Is Smoke but I would recommend reading the whole series as part of Azula's ongoing redemption.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Series: As A Whole [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906822
Comments: 172
Kudos: 284





	1. The Mandarin of Omashu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw (internalised) homophobia

Omashu was nearly unrecognisable. It was as if Azula had stepped back in time to before it had fallen in the war. The creaking metal infrastructure layered over the walls and across the gorge was gone, replaced with quaint stone paths and brickwork. The statue to Ozai that had been under construction when she had last walked these streets was demolished, with no sign it had ever occupied its lofty position. That was no surprise. But she was taken back by the smell of the place. Although the sun had set hours ago, hot dry air rose from the ground in waves. The smell the sun baked clay, unclouded by burning oil and industry, filled her head. 

Suppressing a shiver, she focused her attention on the elegant house that she had been scoping out all day. It was built out of the mountain itself, the interior carved out with precise earth bending centuries before. Although finished with a simple lime wash, as was the fashion of Omashu, the status of its inhabitant was implied by the wide terrace on the upper floor, complete with a delicate garden. It was a fitting residence for a mid level civil servant, who, at least during the war, had authored and enacted taxation law that saw a steady flow of income from the healthy trade of New Ozai to the coffers of the Fire Nation governorship. Guo Wei was one of many Omashu bureaucrats who, through either fear or opportunism, paved a gentle reception for Governor Ukano in the wake of King Bumi’s surrender. Although not a senior minister in the Omashu treasury, Guo Wei proved to be most effective in the subtleties of cutting fat from a starving animal. 

The Princess met him only in passing when she toured the Palace of New Ozai (now rubble, and replaced with a more traditional Earth Kingdom design), but he stood in her memory for his unaffected manner. Meek, but not fearful, he bowed to her and smiled pleasantly when the extent of his co-operation with the new regime was explained to her. Azula had expected him to have been jailed, or executed for assisting Ukano’s regime, and was quite taken aback when her nonchalant enquiry upon her arrival at Omashu revealed he was still comfortably employed by King Bumi, having neither received promotions or demotions in the years that had passed. Perhaps it was his peculiar mildness that allowed him to escape scrutiny when Omashu was reclaimed, despite the favour he received from his Fire Nation overseers. Regardless, he had been a useful tool at the time, and might prove to be one again. His loyalty to the Earth Kingdom was questionable enough that he might provide her with assistance, and his history with the Fire Nation was questionable enough that, if needed, he could be persuaded.

Sitting slumped in an archway with a blanket draped over her, Azula passed for any other unfortunate individual, down on their luck and in need of a resting place for the night. And that she was. But not, the Princess hoped, for long. She had been waiting here as the air temperature slowly cooled under the clear sky, and the desert heat was lost to the stars. Guo Wei had returned home, presumably from his work in the Palace, but besides the arrival of a furtive stranger some hours earlier, there had been no other activity in the house, or indeed, on the street at all. The stranger’s arrival had given her reason for pause. She did not want to reveal herself in front of a hostile audience, so she had been weighing up her options on whether to sleep the night away, or wait for the stranger to leave. When suddenly, a light in one of the front rooms of the house was extinguished. Guo Wei and the stranger who had come to visit were settling in for the night.  _ Surely not?  _

She hesitated for one moment more before getting to her feet and folding the blanket over the bag hanging from her shoulder. This turn of events could work in her favour. She walked briskly to the door, glancing around to ensure she was alone. After ensuring there would be no witnesses, Azula straightened her back in a show of confidence, and rapped her knuckles on the door. There was a murmur of indistinct voices, before the sound of footsteps towards the door.

Guo Wei appeared in the doorway, looking quite the same as ever, with a neat, if a little thin, moustache above his upper lip, and dressed in informal silk robes with yellow and green slippers to match. However, his demeanor was very much changed. Instead of the still, unchanging waters she remembered, his face was twisted in suspicion and disdain. He did not recognise the Princess whom he once bowed before, seeing only a dishevelled girl who had been sleeping on the streets and was now intruding on his evening. How curious it was, to see both sides of the same face. She was transfixed for a moment, under his loathsome gaze before being roused by his impatience.

“What is the cause of this interruption? Do you know what time it is?”

_ So this is how he would like to play this?  _ Azula matched Guo Wei’s clipped tone with one which was dangerously honeyed.

“If it isn’t my favourite mandarian. But I get the feeling you don’t remember who I am.”

He blinked and narrowed his eyes at her, but there was no dawning recognition on his face. He could easily shut the door in her face and she would be lost. So Azula tried again.

“Tell me Guo Wei,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “how did you manage to cover your tracks so completely when King Bumi reclaimed this city? I didn’t think Fire Nation collaborators would be tolerated in the Omashu ministry.”

Before her very eyes he quietened his face. What a useful skill, but used reflexively and it gave away more than if he had simply scowled. She felt an indulgent stab of vindication,  _ that’ll teach you to speak to me like that _ . She saw his eyes linger on her hair and eyes with their obvious Fire Nation colouring, but gave no other sign he recognised her. So she continued.

“Are you sure you want to have this conversation on your doorstep? Or will you invite me in?’ 

After a painful moment of hesitation, Guo Wei turned and wordlessly gestured for her to come inside. She slipped her leather sandals off at the door, and scanned the room. It was as elegant inside as it was outside. The door opened to a sitting room, with a low table and cushions to sit on, and on the table were two used glasses. The guest was not to be seen, but he had left a pair of embroidered cloth shoes on the rack next to Azula’s. As the Princess stood up, she called out to Guo Wei, who was already seated at the table, “I hope I haven’t intruded on anything,” to which he replied with a sharp glance, but nothing more. 

Azula settled herself nicely at the table, the manners drilled into her by rigorous etiquette training a strange contrast to her commoners attire. Now that she had secured a place at the table, she eased the pressure slightly. There was no need to put Guo Wei even more offside before she had made her request.

“Nice place you have, Guo Wei.”

He nodded curtly, and waited for her to speak again. 

“I suppose you are wondering who I am? We only met briefly, but I’m sure I made an impression.” Azula leaned forward and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face, and waited. But Guo Wei said nothing. A true citizen of the Earth Kingdom, inert as the mountain they stood on. She would have to drag a reaction out of him. 

“I am the crown princess of the Fire Nation: Princess Azula.”

He allowed his eyebrows to raise a fraction of an inch, and his lips just parted as he absorbed the news. From the way he stiffened where he sat, Azula could tell he knew it to be true. The fugitive Princess of a former occupying power was not the ideal house guest, especially for one with so much buried history. Azula presumed rumours of her fall from grace would have spread wildly in the Earth Kingdom, and the response from Guo Wei only seemed to confirm that. Her use to him would be as much as she could prove it was better to have a silent friend than a loud enemy. The cogs of his mind turned as she stared boldly back at him.

“Princess Azula? What are you doing  _ here _ of all places?”

“Visiting a friend, of course,” she smiled. 

His eyes twitched. “The last I heard you weren’t up to travelling.”

_ You think I’m mad?  _ She smoothed the mess of her hair that had fallen across her face, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear. “I was indisposed. But I grew tired of lounging around in the Fire Nation. You see one hot spring and you’ve seen them all.” 

But Azula’s words did little to placate him. With more warning in his voice that he had used all night, Guo Wei said, “I think you know what kind of a reception you would receive if anyone realised you were in Omashu.”

“I  _ do _ know. Which is why I’ve come knocking on  _ your _ door.”

The room was becoming very tense. Azula could hear her heart beating in her ears, and, although his hands were hidden neatly in his sleeves, she imagined his knuckles were strained white. From the sliding door to Guo Wei’s personal quarters at the back of the house, a floorboard creaked, but Azula did not remove her eyes from Guo Wei’s. 

“What do you want?”

Azula leant back from the table and placed her hands in her lap, where she dug her nails into her fingers. Long sleeves were useful to hide tics, but made for poor firebending practice.

“A place to lay low for a while. An apartment, perhaps. And a few other things we can discuss in more detail later.” 

Guo Wei’s face broke with amusement, and he leaned back in line with Azula. 

“You would like me to conjure you up an apartment in Omashu, Princess? As if the people in this city would not like to see you executed?”

Scorn muddied his mild voice. But Azula was not perturbed.

“I will stay here tonight if I must. I’m sure you have the spare room.”

“If I am found to be assisting you-” He shook his head at the prospect, and then exhaled. “I have been very careful to sanitise my involvement with Governor Ukano. I won’t see that jeopardised by a  _ rogue Princess. _ ”

Azula’s eyes glinted.  _ Idiot. _ “And  _ that  _ is precisely why I’ve come to you. Your discretion will serve both of us. I imagine your fellow councilmen would have more questions about why this  _ rogue Princess  _ came to you for assistance than about an apartment rented in your name.”

He stared at her, not hard, but unyielding, besides the rhythmic whistle of air through his moustache.  _ A stubborn idiot.  _ She dropped her gaze and let it linger across the table to the two glasses Guo Wei had failed to clear away before answering the door. Then she raised it to the sliding door over his shoulders where they had both heard the creak, then back to him. She spoke a little softer now, but just as dangerously.

“I don’t care what company you keep, Guo Wei.” She watched as his eyes turned cold.  _ Good.  _ Guo Wei had come across as a little queer, even the first time she met him. But from that reaction, his choice of lover was clearly a sore spot, and she was well practised at twisting  _ that  _ particular knife. “I just want somewhere to stay. And in time, some information.”

He ignored the second creak from the doorway, but swallowed hard. “Does anyone know you are here?”

Azula had been alone for months since bid Yang farewell at the gates of farm. She had no allies she could count on, in the Earth Kingdom, or indeed the Fire Nation. Why else would she turn to a man she barely knew, in a city she had only briefly visited, on a hunch that he may give her aid? But still, she could not count on his generosity, so she lied.

“Some friends. People we can trust to keep their mouths shut, unless you give them reason not to.”

“Then why aren’t they helping you?”

“Because they don’t have the means to provide me with private accommodation in this city like you do.”

Guo Wei was too unmoving for Azula to tell whether he believed her or not. But after several agonising moments he bowed his head, and said, “Very well, Princess. I will see what I can do.” She had to fight every slackening muscle not to give away her relief.

When she was shown to a small guest room, Azula waited until Guo Wei’s footsteps had receded before she sunk onto the bed. She watched her trembling fingers as the sound of a hushed argument carried through the walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends. the tone of the next installment of this series will be a bit different from all that remains is smoke, but i hope you enjoy it all the same. it will be a lot more focused on the plot and azula's relationships w the wider cast of atla, especially her favourite acrobat so stick around for azula's reunion w/ her old friends and enemies in chapters to come. 
> 
> next chapter will provide a bit of context as to what has brought azula to omashu
> 
> as always i love hearing you feedback and thoughts so drop a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed.


	2. Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> downtime in omashu

Although she had been awake for hours, it was past midday before Azula decided to get up. The futon was soft, so soft, compared to the hard and rough surfaces she had been sleeping on ever since she had escaped the asylum. And for the first time in months, she was not driven to rise with the sun by the necessities of travel or work. And there  _ was _ work to do, but the kind that could be done by candlelight, or at any other time of day. She opted to open the window to listen to the sounds outside, bustling with people buying odds and ends in the shop below the apartment, and to go over what she needed to do from under her blankets.

There were extensive gaps in her knowledge of the events of the past couple of years. In the asylum, news from outside was limited to that outside of politics so as to not worsen her condition. Most visitors she refused, or if they were accepted, conversation they steered well away from anything considered inflammatory. She suspected incoming correspondence was similarly vetted. On the road, any discussion of national events was filtered through a lense of mundane local concerns- taxes on land, the price of grain, what cash crops that were still worth exporting. Before she had been incarcerated, she was privy to the most important information in the world. Now she had to start again in a world that seemed completely changed. She was expecting Guo Wei later that evening, to whom she could direct many of her questions. But he was slippery and resentful for being her caretaker, so she would have to handle him carefully. Until then, however, she was free to do what she wished. 

The apartment was small, with one main room for a bed and table, with a cramped kitchen off one wall, and a washroom off the other. It was simply furnished,, but it was clean, secure, and from what Azula could tell, clear of vermin. Nonetheless, she found it hard to settle. Her few possessions seemed out of place in the alien room, and Azula was displeased by how quickly the room dirtied. Torn between being unwilling and unsure how to clean the layers of dust and grime that accumulated on every surface, and finding residing in filth disgusting, she had taken to sweeping what she could out the door, or using a wet cloth to clean tiny marks that caught her eye after ignoring them as best she could. The kitchen she avoided as best she could, save for boiling water for tea throughout the day. Luckily Guo Wei provided her with a small daily allowance, which worked out to be enough to buy most meals from the vendors scattered around the district, along with a small number of personal items. As privately grateful as she was, Guo Wei’s generosity weighed on her, and she was aware it could run out at any time. Unlike at the farm, there was little by the way of compensation she could offer him. Just another contingency to account for.

She pulled on her clothes, garments coloured green and yellow that Guo Wei had delivered to her. They were far less conspicuous than the red and brown clothes she had brought with her from the Fire Nation. The accompanying green headband even distracted from her dark hair and colouring that were so distinctively foreign. It was incredible what details people missed when one’s overall appearance conformed to what they were expecting. But this was something that escaped Guo Wei, who had given her a strict set of conditions by which she was to live on the day he had arranged her accommodations.

_ The Princess strided the length of the room with a discerning air. While she inspected each room, Guo Wei gently closed the door that opened to the stairs to the street behind him. He moved, then, to the window, which had been left open to air the apartment in anticipation of their arrival. _

_ “It didn’t take you long to arrange this, Guo Wei. I’m impressed.”  _

_ “I’m glad,” he said, in a tone that did not sound glad at all. He remained neutral when Azula stopped pacing to face him. “Before I go, I think we should discuss some ways we can make this...” he paused, “arrangement work.” _

_ Azula pursed her lips. “What do you have in mind?” _

_ Guo Wei swallowed, and continued silkily. “If anyone finds out who you are, then both of us will suffer.” _

_ “Obviously.” _

_ “I would advise you not to use any firebending. Even if you are alone. Assuming you still have your firebending?” _

_ Azula seethed. “Of course I do. And do you think I am a fool?” _

_ Guo Wei rearranged his hands in his sleeves. “The fate of Fire Lord Ozai is well known, Princess. I thought it prudent to ask.” Azula clenched her jaw, as much in begrudged admiration of his nerve as in irritation.  _

_ “Anything else?” _

_ “On the bed are some outfits that you are to wear. Inside and outside of the apartment. I hope you find them satisfactory.” _

_ Azula did not move from where she stood, but cast a disparaging glance and the neatly folded pile on the bed. “Green? How charming. Did you pick them out yourself?” _

_ He went on as if she had not said anything. “It would be best if you avoided any officials, and official buildings. If anyone were to recognise you, it would be those who worked under the Ukano regime.” _

_ “Like you did?” _

_ Ignoring her again, he said “And finally, it is best if you do not leave the apartment in the evenings. I want you at the apartment within an hour after sunset. It is what would be expected from an unescorted young woman, such as yourself.” _

_ Azula balked at his words. Besides the smallest hint of a smile that appeared on his lips, Guo Wei did not respond to the Princess’ look of disbelief. _

_ “I think these are reasonable requests. If you comply, I will provide you with a weekly sum that will allow you to purchase whatever you might need on a day-to-day basis.” _

_ An internal battle waged inside the Princess. All of Guo Wei’s requests seemed reasonable, but meeting them being a precondition of receiving an allowance provoked an indignant rage and she was tempted to reject them all out of spite. The wiser side of her struggled to hold her tongue, but eventually she gave a stiff nod. _

With the exception of the curfew, the requests had been reasonable, and Azula was resentfully impressed with the clothes Guo Wei had chosen. Unlike the coarse material she had grown used to during her travels, the Earth Kingdom tunic was soft and light. And secretly, she did think the green suited her.

She stepped outside the apartment. It was entering the hottest part of the day, and she could feel the heat from the stone stairs even through the soles of her sandals. She shadow hopped from building to building, hoping to avoid the worst of the sun, and the gaze of the son of the shop owner beneath her apartment. A skinny thing who hadn’t grown into his height, maybe a year older than Azula, he often sat at the entrance of the shop fixing broken tools while staring out into the street. Several times now he had tried making conversation with Azula while she passed, and now she put off leaving the apartment if she could hear him working below.

Omashu gave Azula a sense of vertigo, with the buildings piled upon each other and the cart system that sent goods rattling across the city. Her apartment was located on the smaller, western peak, about a twenty minute walk from Guo Wei’s home. Unlike the clear social stratification of Ba Sing Se, Omashu was made up of clusters of neighbourhoods and specialist districts, with seemingly no rhyme or reason, which made for a confusing navigational experience. On one of her first days in the city, she had attempted to walk from the city entrance to the central peak where the building of various civil institutes could be found. What presumably would be a straight forward route quickly became derailed by the endless narrow lanes and alleyways that crisscrossed the city, or sheer cliff faces around which no stairway could be found. Along with the wide open plaza by the entrance, and the narrow pathway to the city gates, the organised chaos of the city’s layout would have proved near impossible to conquer. Azula developed a newfound appreciation for the work of the general who forced King Bumi’s surrender after decades of recurrent sieges.

By now, the Princess had found a route to a noodle bar that had become a favourite of hers. She had happened upon it by chance, when wandering lost between cramped buildings, she had found herself at the end of a queue she did not realise she was in until the woman before her was asking for payment for the house specialty. Early afternoon was when the bar was the emptiest, and so that was when she went for lunch. A mouthful sized cup of green tea was pushed into her hands, and before long, a bowl of fat wheat noodles, coated in salty sweet sauce and wok fried with whole dried chillies, would be placed at her table. The heat of the chillies apparently worked to raise a sweat and cool one down, but compared to the spice native to Fire Nation cuisine, this barely made Azula’s lips tingle. But it was tasty and cheap and became part of her routine. 

The noodle bar was empty when she arrived today. Often when she came at this time there would be a couple of patrons who sat at a table, talking like old friends with the woman who appeared to run the establishment. They spoke loudly, and about things Azula did not care about, but the backdrop of their conversation was comfortable. But now with the quiet, Azula could actually think over her noodles.

Her position was a precarious one, and she was well aware that as easily as she wielded information as threats, she herself would be a valuable pawn to someone daring enough. An enemy of the Earth Kingdom and a fugitive of the Fire Nation, her ransom might prove more tempting than the threat she carried. When the possibility of an aimless future, skulking from hiding hole to hiding hole crossed her mind, she felt sick. And then she would imagine, not seriously entertaining the notion, but imagine for imaginings sake, sending a tortured letter to Zuko, begging, demanding to be let back into the Fire Nation with diplomatic immunity, free to go where she pleased. She had done it for him, hadn’t she? Taken the chance to restore his honour and his position in the family because it was only right. And then she remembered the ice water and chains while Zuko watched on. He may have loosened the restrictions on her in the asylum, but after her escape, she doubted the kindness in his heart would not extend to such leniency again. No, it was not a serious notion. It couldn’t be. If she were to return to anywhere near her previous status, it would need to be on her own terms.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Princess was sitting at the writing desk when Guo Wei let himself in the apartment. He scanned the room, before shutting the window with a snap. Azula finished writing the sentence in thick black ink before speaking.

“You know, it would be a lot less suspect if you didn’t insist on coming here in the middle of the night. What  _ will _ the family downstairs think?”

If Guo Wei was embarrassed, he did not show it, beyond using a more clipped tone than usual. “I have other matters to attend to during the day. What is it you wished to discuss?”

Azula put down her brush and turned her chair to Guo Wei. There was a great deal she wished to know, but she needed to be careful about what she would ask the mandarin. She started with a topic of direct relevance to his position, and to his ego.

“What kind of relations does Omashu have with the Fire Nation? I know there is trade as I came here on a cargo ship. But anything beyond that?”

Guo Wei hesitated. There was little insinuation or danger in Azula’s voice, a welcome change, and there was an air of puzzlement about him for a moment. He cleared his throat.

“There is trade, yes.” He smiled gently and cleared his throat again.  _ A point of pride for the mandarin? I doubt the terms are very good for the Fire Nation then.  _ “In terms of other relations, delegates from Ba Sing Se have been sent to the Capital, to… assist with the regime change. But there is little direct involvement of Omashu in  _ that _ particular affair.”

Azula wrinkled her nose, to which Guo Wei gave a self-satisfied smile. She doubted very much that interference from the Earth Kingdom would have earned Zuko many friends among the nobility, particularly among the admirals and generals who made up the ruling councillors. But she put that out of her mind for the moment.

“In that case, would you be able to tell me who exactly the current Fire Nation councillors are? Or anyone else of importance? I can’t imagine that many of the councillors from my Father’s rule would sanction that level of intrusion.”

Guo Wei raised his eyebrows slightly. “I think you’ll find that many of them don’t have a choice, Princess.” Azula felt her muscles stiffen. He continued loftily, however, when he saw she did not intend to interject. “But I can find out who remains on the council, yes.”

“I would appreciate that, Guo-Wei.” She thought for a moment. “And the governors of the established colonies? The military leadership based in the Earth Kingdom?”

  
“Many tried and imprisoned, or executed, if they were captured on Earth Kingdom territory. And half as many absconded, much like yourself.”

“I see.” She felt the blood rush to her face, but she remained impassive.  _ So the Earth Kingdom leadership is out for blood, and are not so merciful as the Avatar.  _ She looked up at the softly spoken man. If what he said was true, then the punishment facing him for working with the Ukano governorship was greater than even Azula had imagined. As long as she was in this city, she had bound him to a terrible fate. Useful, insofar as he did not decide to dispose of her. She took a deep breath, more nervous than she had been so far.

“There are few others I wanted to know about.” She paused, while Guo listened expectantly. “My uncle, Iroh, the Dragon of the West. And my former companions. Mai, and Ty Lee.”

Guo Wei tilted his head. In an amused voice, he said “I think you mean Lady Mai. Soon to be Fire Lady Mai.”

Azula scoffed and then looked bitter. Azula wondered whether they had become engaged before or after she had escaped the asylum. Whether Zuko had kept the news from her, out of concern for how she might react.

“Her mother would be pleased, I suppose.”

He waited for Azula to regain her composure. “But the other two, I am not sure.”

That was possibly the largest blow of the evening. Uncle would be easy enough to find. He would be close by Zuko. Asking about Ty Lee had been less of a certainty, as she had held no official position from what Azula knew. But she still had hoped, by some off chance, that Guo Wei would have some knowledge of her whereabouts. She shot him an ugly look. “Well find out for me.”

Guo Wei raised an eyebrow. “I will see what I can do, Princess. Is there anything else?”

Azula had risen to her feet and was leaning against the desk with her arms crossed, suddenly feeling very tired. “No.” But when Guo Wei was halfway out the door she stopped him. “Wait. Seeing as you would prefer me stay inside all evening, you can bring me something to read. I don’t know what counts for literature amongst you people, but anything would be better than nothing.” He lingered over the threshold, and looked at her over his shoulder. Something passed between them, and for a moment the something stirred behind his impassive eyes. Was it sympathy? But then it was gone. He nodded, wished her goodnight, and disappeared behind the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh you know that after guo wei told azula she had a curfew she slammed the door shut and said "you aren't my real dad!"
> 
> and yeah i know not a lot happened this chapter but hopefully you can see theres some background plot stuff, exposition for when the story really takes off. also omashu seems like a really cool city? kind of want to go wander around there you know?
> 
> lemme know what you liked and didn't like in comments below :)


	3. Web of Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter name: Schemin'

The night was dragging on, but despite the itchy tiredness behind Azula’s eyes, she continued to pour over scrolls thick with scrawling black ink. Some were transcripts, some were reports, both for the commoners, and for select legal clerks and members of the ruling classes of the Earth Kingdom, detailing the events of the trials of the Fire Nation councillors who oversaw the destruction of Earth Kingdom lives and territories. The details of all were hard to parse, either due to obscure jargon that, until now, Azula had never had to interpret unassisted, or were so clearly propaganda that they could not be trusted. But reading between the lines, a story emerged. The war councillors, all men she had known since she was a child, had either refused to speak to the judgement of the representatives officers of the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom, or had fled, been captured, or not heard from since. 

Among the retellings of the trials, Guo Wei had provided her with copies of official correspondence between the diplomats of the Caldera capital, former conquerors by any other name, and the Earth Kingdom legal scholars. Disputes over arrested Fire Nation military leaders and the leniency, or lack thereof, shown to them depending on whether they were held in custody in their homeland or the Earth Kingdom itself. Outraged accusations that the Fire Nation was acting in bad faith were met with evasive replies from the diplomats, and overly formal assurances that the apprehended would face justice in accordance with their crimes. 

That the Fire Nation was apprehending its own leadership was surprise enough for Azula. These men, hand picked by her Father, or those who had carved pathways up the ranks of military leadership through either feats of strategic genius or familial repute, she knew as untouchable, except for acts of gross misjudgement and failure in the field. These men were the cornerstones of Fire Nation hierarchy, second only to the crown. Without them, Azula imagined the onslaught of petty squabbles and power plays from undistinguished families and minor nobles that must be now taking place. And amongst those who fled? Those captured by Earth KIngdom authorities were yet another mark of cowardice and dishonour against the new Fire Nation, and the Fire Lord who ruled it. On a fresh scroll, Azula drew out the tangled web of names and nobles still serving the Fire Lord, the new battlelines and allegiances that might be forming in the absence of all consuming war.

\--------------------------------------------------

Today, Azula dwelled in the noodle bar for a while after she had finished her lunch. She had nowhere else to be and the days were growing hotter as they approached the summer solstice. In the dark of the noodle bar she was sheltered from the heat. That is, until the owner saw her rest against the thick clay wall and placed a bowl of hot water in front of her, followed by a plate of freshly cut dragon fruit. When Azula shook her head, the woman insisted, and there was nothing Azula could do but accept both. Drinking hot water on hot days was a habit of the elderly. Her Uncle kept to his tea, of course, but many mornings before her training would begin, her tutors, Lo and Li would refuse to begin her instruction until she finished a small painted bowl of water, heated to boil and allowed to cool a fraction. It would help her chi to flow, they said, and cool her by comparison. 

She was just finishing the last slice of dragonfruit, when another patron entered, and sat with his back facing her. Unlike Azula, he was well dressed like Guo Wei, but due to his age, she estimated he must only be a clerk or some other low-leveled civil servant. She found herself staring. Even after some time in Omashu, the Princess found the way social classes mixed so easily gave her pause. But, it was the way this young man kept glancing back towards her corner that unnerved her today. Since she had begun to unravel the precariousness of her situation, and the situation of other Fire Nation interlopers hoping to escape in the crowds of the Earth Kingdom, she had become even more cautious in her movements around the city. Besides her daily lunch and occasional trips to the market, Azula rarely left the apartment. But perhaps she was careless with the routine. Perhaps even now there were unwanted eyes on her.

Besides a curt thank-you to the woman who served her, Azula left without another word or glance at the young man. Rather than return to her apartment, she followed a different route, heading vaguely towards the district where the woodworkers and carpenters resided. But as was the nature of Omashu, she quickly became hopelessly lost. No need to worry, as long as she could see the incline of the western peak she would eventually be able to find her way home. For now, let herself disappear into the congregation of people returning to their work after an afternoon lunch. 

Before long, she was in an area she had never been before. It was one of the few wide open squares, at the centre of which were several large pieces of twisted metal, set upon a raised piece of stone. It was so out of place, in this ancient stone square, that Azula cut through the streams of people to inspect it more closely. It was made of bent nails through black iron and writhing chords of metal. The pieces were crumpled together, and were held in place by a bed of bent earth. Protruding from the raised square was a plaque, into which a skilled bender had carved:

_ Here Lies the Remains of Ozai’s Statue: _

_ Felled by King Bumi and the Underground Omashu Resistance _

_ Long May They Live _

The Omashu resistance had proved far more than the nuisance she had believed when she had first visited. How could her occupying force possibly deal with soldiers who could disappear behind walls and into the floor at any given moment? It had been a futile exercise. Even now she looked to her feet, wondering what passages lay below. Had Guo Wei been an earth bender he may have hidden her away in some concealed room instead of in an apartment, free to go as she pleased. How many other Fire Nationals had fled to this city, disgruntled with the new order back home?

\-------------------------------------------------------------

“Are there other people like me in this city?”

Azula said it casually enough, hoping Guo Wei would not catch onto how important the answer was to her. He was peeved. She had arrived at his doorstop, “well after sunset” he had noted, under the pretence of wanting him to sign off on some maintenance payment needed by the landlord that had been slipped under her door. Really what she wanted was to borrow the wax seal stamp he used for correspondence, but she doubted the madarin would be so obliging as to lend it to her willingly. So here she was, sitting at the low table in his living room, helping herself to a small glass of sake, hoping to catch him off guard.

Something shifted in his stoic face at her question, puzzlement, amusement, before it came to rest again. “People like you? I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, Princess.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Guo Wei, I can hardly be the first person to flee to Omashu from the Fire Nation.” He waited for her to continue, but with the smallest hint of a frown appearing between his brows. “Do you know of any others?” 

“That is not the kind of information I seek out.”

“But it is the kind of information you have, isn’t it?”

Another stand-off where the air turned thick. The madarin’s reticence was an endless source of frustration for the Princess, but it did at least fill her with some confidence that Guo Wei knew how to keep his mouth shut when needed. While they had been growing used to each other, Guo Wei would dig his heels in at every opportunity. And unfortunately, Azula was mostly at the mercy of his whims. But perhaps he was feeling generous this evening, for he eventually answered.

Through pursed lips, he said “To my knowledge, there are none in Omashu.”

“But?” Azula asked, her voice like a knife.

Guo Wei chose his next words very carefully. “I imagine many would settle nearer to the old former colonies along the coast.”

“In Yu Dao?’

“Oh, I wouldn’t say  _ in  _ Yu Dao. But there are many estates in the north west sympathetic to their former masters.”

“ _ Who? _ ”

He gave her a sharp, appraising look. She was pushing harder than was wise, but so far he had shown he still had some give. He spoke very softly.

“There are many questions I have not asked you, Princess. Often it is better to know less, not more. I do not want you drawing attention to either of us.”

Azula laughed humourlessly. “Do you think I want to stay here, hidden away, forever? Give me a name, Guo Wei, and the sooner I will be out of your hair.” She cast a glance up to his balding head, and some genuine amusement worked its way into her otherwise cold eyes. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

And with some reluctance, Guo Wei gave her a name. But Azula had not finished just yet.

“One more thing, Guo Wei.” He was a very patient man, but his patience was wearing thin, and she saw his shoulders tense beneath his robes. “You never brought me a book. I’ve been very bored.”

Guo Wei looked at her strangely, like it had not occurred to him that she might be bored or lonely in a city she did not know. That she might want to escape this situation, even if it were through the pages of a book.

“Very well. Follow me.” He took her down the hallway to his study. In the centre was a writing desk with neat piles of scrolls, bottles of ink, brushes, and several letter seals. Along the walls were bookcases, filled with tomes. Looking over them, many were record and reference books for his work in taxation law. A smaller section was devoted to schools of philosophy, history, and poetry. He gestured for her to select one for herself. But she just smiled sweetly. 

“Why don’t you choose one for me.” 

She followed him to the shelves, but hung back besides his desk. While he bent down towards the section dedicated to traditional Earth Kingdom poetry, she pocketed one of the wax seals. He stood back upright and held out his selection. 

_ The Tale of Two Lovers _

Azula smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re a romantic, Guo Wei?”

“Consider it a history lesson.”

Later that evening, Azula sat at her desk, regarding a half written letter before her thoughtfully. This would require a deft touch, knowing how much to reveal to coax out a little trust, a little indiscretion from the man to whom it was addressed. She had the name of a man she did not know, Shu Yin, and the letter seal of a man she did. Being too forward was to risk her own, and Guo Wei’s safety, and of frightening Shu Yin away. But being timid, and her requests could be overlooked. She walked that tightrope everyday, but in this letter she wrapped it around the promise of collaboration. The promise was easily denied, it was nothing that could be pinned on Guo Wei, or her for that matter. She mentioned nothing of the Fire Nation, the former governors, the missing Admirals and Generals. It was an welcoming offer threaded between the banal and everyday matters she imagined someone like Guo Wei might discuss with someone like Shu Yin.

Rereading what she had written so far and it appeared too vague, to the point where its whole purpose might dissipate like smoke. So in the final lines, she left a hook for one with a guilty conscience. 

“In my care I have a person who may be of interest to you and your charges.” 

She requested a swift reply, and signed off Guo Wei’s name. Beside her, the candle had almost burnt out. Another night spent working into the wee hours, with Azula losing sense of all space and time outside of the threads of ink and distant shadows across land and sea. She tucked the unsealed letter into the desk draw and fell into bed, allowing the flame of the candle to slowly suffocate in the wax.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Weeks passed her by, the same days spent watching the skies for the awaited messenger hawke unchanging besides the sun growing steadily hotter as the solstice drew closer. While her body slowed, the pace of her thoughts accelerated as she plotted out the names and the story of her period of absence from the world that she knew. With each borrowed document provided to her by Guo Wei, she entered a new world, the world of the righteous, saved by the Avatar, by her brother too, indignant and demanding. Easier to accommodate from her vantage were the cynical, squabbling Ba Sing Se officials, looking to punish and use the weakened state of the Fire Nation to expand their sphere of influence within the Earth Kingdom and abroad. That was a language she understood. 

What stuck like grime to the walls of her mind was the tiny characters in neat print containing the valuations of what was lost from provinces across the entire Kingdom. Worth several times the weight of what was contained in vaults all across the Fire Nation, vast sums that seemed nonsensical to Azula, like a word repeated so many times it dissolved into nothing but alien sounds. The breakdowns, with their tidy dispassionate descriptions of claims from single village or estate, were provokation.

_ Yuwotou Township: Avatar Shrine, one thousand heads of moo-sow, 20 acres hardwood plantation, 273 houses with an estimated value of … _

This report, one excerpt of thousands of its kind, prickled like scorn, and she laughed from her chest and pushed it away. Only then for a strange, isolated image to return to her, maybe an Szetzu era fence that had been dismantled, the figurative head cut off as a souvenir, or small brood of turkey ducks, so small it was absurd, but they came back all the same, this time without the laughter, no matter how she tried to scrub the memory of them. Pointless, useless thoughts that pricked at her skin.

But a distraction came in the form of the long awaited messenger hawke that landed with a surprising lack of grace at her window. The hawke spread its wings and flapped at the speed at which she rose to her feet and partly opened its beak in warning. Taking the cue to collect herself, she waited until it showed her the pouch on its back, from which she pulled a tightly coiled scroll, sealed with deep green wax. And the writing inside matched, green ink embellished with personalised writing paper - a spry rooster printed on the corner of each scroll. She took a moment to contain her exasperation, for she was dealing with an overly proud man, before delving into the fine print.

Shu Yin took his time to get to the point, spending paragraphs labouring over small happenings in his estate, replying with elaborate prose to polite questions Azula had written simply to be proper. Thinking there might be something meaningful hidden in the body of the letter, she read each line carefully, and finding none, threw the first scroll to the floor while the hawke at the window let out a mournful cry. P _ etty nobles are the same the world over _ , she thought. Then finally, half way through the second scroll, Shu Yin said something half worth the ink it was written in.

_...I am an important man, my dear friend, and I have many charges, each of whom believes himself as important as the next. But in my position, one learns …  _

He continued in this manner for some time. 

_...You can understand my need for careful judgement, as do my charges, given their interest in privacy, as is proper for those of their station... _

_ … I have deep admiration for the years of work and service you have given to the jewel that is Omashu in circumstances less than favourable… which have not granted you the recognition deserved...but… due sensitivity is required, as I’m sure you understand.... _

_...If I am to be of more assistance to you, and those you work with.... Please understand my need for such a request to be as forthcoming as is reasonable and wise… _

Wading through the thick, flowery language, Shu Yin was remarkably plain, all things considered. He had all but admitted his Fire Nation connections, and the terms by which he would loosen his tongue. And the same question came to her that had been spinning around her mind ever since she had arrived in Omashu. Just how forthcoming could she dare to be? Between the hangman’s noose, the leather bindings and ice baths of the asylum, and the slow wasting away in this cell of an apartment, Azula knew which she preferred. 

Always one for decisive action, she rummaged through a box of hidden treasures she kept behind a cabinet built into the wall. A small stone she had unearthed from the fields of Yang’s farm, the mirror, now cracked from being dropped out of carelessness, some notes she had transcribed from the reports and papers Guo Wei had delivered to her. Then, her fingers found the golden clip that had held her hair in a topknot, all that time ago in the asylum. Simple in design, no doubt to remind her of her place, but untarnished despite months of travel. And inlaid into the base of the clip was the jeweler makers stamp. The personal jeweler of the Royal Family. Surely that would be forthcoming enough? But to part with this now, to discard the last physical reminder of where she came from? Foolish sentimentality bit into her, trappings she would rather be without but found herself comforted by their bindings. 

Comfort be damned. She wrote a reply to Shu Yin’s letter, brief and to the point. And to the letter, she tied the clip, and placed it in the pouch of the hawke. 

\-------------------------------------

The Princess was stricken by restlessness. Since the encounter, if it could be called that, with the man in the noodle bar, Azula avoided routine to her departures from her apartment. And when she did walk the streets of Omashu, to buy, perhaps, tea and rice and fruit, or fried breads and dumplings stuffed with wooly pig meat, she watched for familiar faces in the crowd. There was a smothering kind of safety in restricting her world down to the four walls of the apartment and the view of the endless sky out her window. On these days, when sky blue and clear as always, the shouting and laughter and busy din of the street below muffled through the solid walls around her, when the neat, cutting lines of Azula’s mind had grown thin and weary, she laid on the bed with  _ The Tale of Two Lovers _ resting on her chest. It was less a single story than a collection of songs, short poems, and odes, building the landscape around Omashu out of small encounters between animals and spirits and long lost friends. Warlords tore apart farms and villages, tore the spirits from the rivers and the birds from the sky, epic battles bled the mountains red, and entire valleys were leveled and built anew as warriors clashed to do the bidding of cruel masters. The cool clear note of the lovers Oma and Shu sang as a vine crawled up a wizened old tree, melancholic croaks of a frog and a grasshopper in a pond that churned and became mud under leather boots. 

Secret lovers fumbled in the dark as a brilliant bruise bloomed on her heart, and an ache rose in her throat, when rapid footsteps ascended the stairs to her door. A shadow passed the closed window, slid a sealed letter under the door, and departed as rapidly as it appeared. A shining example of Omashu’s world class postage system that still scared her anxious mind half to death. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Azula had expected Shu Yin to reply to messenger hawke, given the sensitivity of their correspondence. The surprise of this intrusion was enough that she remained still for a time, eyeing the letter on the threshold while the blood coursing through her ears receded.

But the seal on the letter matched that in her desk draw. A letter from Guo Wei. A mixture of relief and frustration flooded her as she picked at the wax. His script was as orderly as he, and she scanned it impatiently. The location of her Uncle was unknown to Guo Wei’s sources. Azula’s mouth twisted into a scowl.  _ Whatever is the fat old man up to?  _ She shook her head as if to rid her mind of the familiar course of critical thoughts she often fell into whenever she considered Uncle Iroh for too long. Wherever Zuko was,surely her Uncle could not be far.

Returning to the letter, Guo Wei had written to inform her that her old Dai Li agents that had served as her body guards had been replaced by the Fire Lord with the Kyoshi warriors. This news she mulled over. The symbolism of a school of warriors that fashioned themselves after an Avatar, and Earth Kingdom Avatar nonetheless, serving the Fire Lord did not escape her, but their presence indicated a Fire Lord who could not trust his own kin. And maybe that was the nature of the role, as she so sadly knew. Zuko had never been equipped to handle power, and some deep seated part of her was vindicated by the possibility that he was forced to bear the full weight of the crown, with its privileges and vulnerabilities falling squarely on his shoulders. But what pleasure she drew from the letter was cut cruelly short by the next few lines.

_ Among the Fire Lord’s new bodyguards, I came across a name which may be familiar to you. One Ty Lee, former companion to the Princess Azula, is the first from the Fire Nation to join the Kyoshi warriors in living memory. She, like the other Kyoshi warriors, splits her time between the Caldera Capital and Kyoshi Island. _

The Princess could hardly believe what she was reading.  _ Ty Lee… a Kyoshi warrior? _ Not a costume, but genuinely admitted into their ranks? With the stiff robes and the thick paint that made it so hard to read what was going on behind those grey eyes, normally so expressive. The costume that Azula and Mai stripped out of as soon as they could, while Ty Lee played with the fans for her own amusement, almost like she were dancing on pointed toes. She would put on a silly voice, pretend to be one of the girls they had taken captive, and Mai might mime throwing a knife to pin her to a wall, or might just groan. 

Azula felt  _ uncomfortable _ . Perhaps it was because the costume reminded her of the circus act Ty Lee had reluctantly abandoned on Azula’s behalf. She would tell Ty Lee to get out of the costume, to a look of surprise and maybe some blushing under that thick white paint. When it struck her that she should be embarrassed by what was implied by her sulking demands, she would clarify, “you look stupid in that outfit,” only for the harshness of what she said to embarrassed her further. Ty Lee would reply in a huff, “It’s not meant to be serious,” while she changed into a casual gown. The vitriol was unexpected from the girl normally so pacifying, so placating to Azula, and suggested that maybe Ty Lee was thinking about the life she had left as well. A tumultuous mix of unspoken tension, the push-pull pendulum between them rose in the air, ugly and unkind. In some strange way it was almost a relief to hear the crack in Ty Lee’s voice, to know there were some things she could not keep from her. The three girls would waste little time in retreating into their individual rooms for the evening.

This was a new betrayal to what she thought she knew. And the same hurt guilt compacted like a stone and threatened to sink her to her knees. She found herself on the bed, head against those thick cool walls and half imagined she could hear the indistinct murmurings of Mai and Ty Lee snuck into the room next door.

\-------------------------------------------

Shu Yin’s reply came far sooner than the first. As she fell upon its contents, Azula gave a shaky laugh as the crushing weight of impending disaster cracked and fell into dust. In place of the winding, indulgent prose of the first letter, Shu Yin had adopted a far more deferential tone:

... _ How may I be of assistance, Princess?… _

Azula looked to her extensive notes from the information Guo Wei had given her, the webs of ink that ran all over the Earth Kingdom. She read over the names that, if found in hiding, she believed would be most valuable to the Earth Kingdom, and most damaging to the Fire Nation. The most heinous criminals and brutal commanders that had evaded capture. 

Pulling out a new scroll onto the desk, the Princess wrote, “these are the men I seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was such a grind , hopefully it was more enjoyable to read than it was to write lol.
> 
> also guo wei really thought he was gonna have to explain to azula that there are lesbians all over omashu and the world at large but she just needed to find them, maybe get a subscription to curve or diva or join a community lgbt org but thankfully he didnt bc i think even he might be able to coach her through that discussion
> 
> next chapter, azula will get out her proverbial sickle and kick start this story.
> 
> someone very dear to her heart will appear (after 33k words build up) so, [in the words of betty davis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKHUGvde7KU) ;)
> 
> please let me know what you thought, i always love reading your comments and sometimes if there are particular things you enjoyed i find ways to incorporate them into the story ahead. thanks for reading <3


	4. One Last Request: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula puts her plans in motion, stumbles around a bit, and has some feelings about some things

Over the early weeks of summer, Azula cultivated a fruitful correspondence with a growing list of contacts in the remnants of the Fire Nation’s north western strongholds of the Earth Kingdom. Shin Yu had proven most accommodating once he understood with whom he was dealing. Of the names that Azula had given to him that were not in his charge, he had been able to put her in touch with some other estate, or the head of a tucked away town, filled with Fire Nation colonists, who might be able to help her in her quest. From there, she wrote to the men directly. She started with formalities, how they were, the condition of their accommodations, whether their allies were treating them well. And then, their ties back home. Were there friendly faces left in the court, was the Fire Nation giving them aid, or looking the other way? She found her answers not from a single source, but from them all. Most were comfortable, eating the fruit from another man’s table, beholden to grief with the downfall of Ozai, and willing to wait and see how the cards fell as the world rebuilt itself. 

As for herself, she told them she had fallen on hard times, unfairly usurped and left to rot and would they consider giving her aid, if only for the sake of her father? There would need to be meetings, reunions, oh how she missed Fire Nation food and company, oh how she missed those giants who would bring down a civilisation with heaven’s fire. Whatever old quarrels, she wrote, whatever squabbles for the Fire Lord’s favour, or stretch of partitioned land to be divided amongst them meant nothing now they were all thieves and liars in an Earth Kingdom den. 

\--------------------------

Despite the lateness of the hour, Azula heard the boy downstairs pause the insufferable filing of his tools to greet silken footsteps of Guo Wei as he made his way to her door. She doubted the mandarin would be any happier about his pleasant nosiness than her. She had made a pot of white tea, both to calm the sea of chi of her stomach, and in the hope that it might sweeten his disposition towards her before she asked for yet another favour. For once she had not over-steeped it to the point of bitterness. Small victories to be savoured when they came along.

Guo Wei rapt gently at the door, and allowed himself in before she invited him inside. She could have tutted at that, but she let it slide. There were more important things to put her energy towards. As for Guo Wei, he seemed ill at ease, hovering by the door.

“You can sit down, you know.”

Azula gestured at the stool beside the writing desk that doubled as her dining table, where the little pot of tea was steaming.

“I would apologise for my lack of amenities, but that’s on you, isn’t it Guo Wei?”

“I am sorry if you are not comfortable here, Princess,” he said, without offering anything more. Not that she had expected him to. “I suppose it can’t be helped,” she said with a shrug. When she saw him turn his gaze at the pot of tea she realised that, as the host, she was expected to pour it. And when he did not move to pour it himself, as she had been served thousands of times before, she did just that. 

If he felt half as strange as he looked, she would never be able to ask from him what she needed. She let out a strangled patter of a laugh, “Don’t worry, I haven’t poisoned it,” and, as if to reassure him, took a sip from her cup. “See?”

Guo Wei quickly took a sip as well. “Thank-you. Now what was it you needed?”

_Really? Not even a smile?_ But the tea was not for nothing, for it gave her something to do while she thought over her next words. In her old life, there were very few requests she ever had to make. There was an entire palace of servants, an entire nation of soldiers and citizens to meet her every demand. She was too young to be involved in the high levels of diplomacy that made even her Father choose his words delicately. And with her Father, there was a simple formula to get what she wanted: if she could twist and contort, sometimes to the point of breaking, so that what she asked for reflected _his_ desires, then so be it. And when Zuko complained of her good fortune, she could almost laugh, for whatever favour was bestowed on her, it was paid for in kind. 

With Guo Wei, she was at a loss. The tea was nothing but a gesture, and one poorly made. There was nothing she could give, besides staying put in the small corner of this wretched city head secured for her. What she then asked betrayed even that. 

“I need a boat. And safe passage to Kyoshi Island.”

Azula observed with a sinking heart as Guo Wei became incredulous. For once his posture slackened, and his hat, a poncy thing, embroidered green and gold, was placed on the desk so he could run his fingers over his bare scalp.

“You want me to charter you a boat to Kyoshi Island? Azula, I do not think you understand the income of someone in my position.”

“I don’t _need_ to understand! I don’t need an ocean-faring vessel! A sailing boat, a fishing boat, anything that will get me there and back!” The words came out too hot and rushed, and gave away too much of the swirling chi in her stomach that had not been calmed by the tea shaking in her hand. It was not what she had in mind, to lose her temper like that, and she continued quickly in a softer tone. “If you really don’t have any favours you can call on, down at the docks, I’ll make my own there.” 

Guo Wei was weary. His fingers found the bridge of his nose and remained there, pinched, until he spoke at last.

“Why Kyoshi Island? Why must you go there? For the Kyoshi Warriors?”

“It’s safer for you to know less.”

They both knew the lie as soon as she said it. Azula had implicated him the night she arrived on his doorstep. And, unbeknownst to the mandarin, his own fate had only become more entangled with hers when she stole his wax letter seal. _Do you know it is gone, Guo Wei? Would you be sitting here with me, sharing a pot of tea if you suspected I had taken it?_

‘I won’t spend more than a day there. That’s all I need.”

“That’s all you need,” he repeated back with an unblinking stare. The mandarin placed his hat back on his head and walked to the door. “Leave it with me, Azula.”

\----------------------------------

When Azula saw the boat at the end of the pier, she could have burnt it and its captain to the ground. It was an ancient fishing boat, and worn from years of exposure to sun and sea. It was small too, with room for three abreast, and as many lengthways, and no interior cabin, only a leather tarp piled in the corner. Guo Wei had informed her it would be a seven day journey to the island, the winds allowing, or just two weeks for the round trip. She seethed when she remembered his parting words.

_Be careful Azula. And get some sun. It will do you good._

Judging by the leather skin of the thin and aging Captain Ting Hua, she would be getting little else. With every ounce of willpower, the Princess fought off the urge to scream fire, and instead cursed the name of Guo Wei with every heinous insult she could think of. She walked up to the Captain, and asked, “Ting Hua?”

“Must be Guo Wei’s friend.”

“Not his _friend_ ,” she spat. _Certainly not after this slight._ “His cousin. Hana.”

Ting Hua pulled the boat closer to the pier, and tightened the rope around the mooring pole so Azula could step over the churning water below. Without another word to Ting Hua, she threw her bag to the deck, and herself alongside it.

The journey started slowly, with the little fishing boat weaving through the busy harbour, where boats small and large carried masses of produce and other cargo from all over to the city of Omashu. From the few giant vessels from the Fire Nation stacked high with cargo, to tiny canoes, upon which were perched oversized piles of citrus, or whatever other fruit you could imagine, a great trade was being made over the water. Azula watched from beneath furrowed brows as a system of passage emerged in the midst of the chaos. The largest were granted right of way, and close calls with canoes and jon boats caused Ting Hua to call out in angry warning. Eventually, even Azula shot the orchestrators of such incidents with filthy looks. 

Eventually the bustle of the market dwindled, and the wind lifted the further away from the cliffs of Omashu harbour they sailed. For a time, Ting Hua did not try to converse with her, sensing the foul mood that was emanating from her. Unlike the steam battleships from her travels during the war, or the cargo ship on which she had stowed away on in her efforts to reach Omashu, the trough and crest of every wave was felt acutely by the passengers of the little fishing boat. She was equal parts thrilled and sickened when the bow of the boat crashed into the rising wave before it, and as a fierce wind blew loose the hair from her ponytail while a pair of cormorants glided overhead. 

It was a couple of hours before they were halfway along the gulf that opened up out to the greater Earth Kingdom coast, when Ting Hua spoke to Azula. A burst of sea spray erupted from over the gunwale down the back of her neck and over her bag. She gasped, from the shock of it more than anything, all the more cold for the burning sun high above. But worst was that the water churning at the bottom of the boat kept splashing over her bag, and tired of picking it up and putting it back down with every crash of a wave, she turned to look at Ting Hua for the first time since she had sat with her back facing at the bow of the boat.

“Looking for somewhere to put that bag?” 

Ting Hua had a quiet voice, and it was a strain to hear his mumbled words over the wind and the surf. Azula did not suppose he had much of a need for anything else when he was normally out sailing, with no one to listen but the cormorants that followed them still. 

“Somewhere it _won’t_ get wet, if possible.”

He secured the sail, and opened a compartment built into the stern of the boat. 

“Mind your step. It might take a few days for your sea legs to come in.”

Azula followed on unsteady legs, and, after checking its contents were still dry, placed it inside. “At least _it_ will stay dry,” she thought darkly. She stumbled back towards her chosen seat near the bow of the boat, far enough away that Ting Hua would not notice if she helped the sun to dry her clothes. She found her bad mood was lifting as she sat under that midday sun, despite her stubborn resolution to hate every moment of this boat ride, to hold a grudge against Guo Wei for finding her the most exposed, worn out boat and captain to take her to her destination. Maybe it was being able to bend heat to hear skin under the sun, maybe it was leaving the stuffy interior of her apartment with its dust and scrolls and ink, acting instead of hiding, no matter how apprehensive she was to reach her destination. Her decision was made long before she set foot on the boat. To execute a plan was far less burdensome than its design, for Azula at least. And however the cards of her destiny were to fall, she was committed to them. 

Ting Hua must have felt that, with that exchange, the ice between them had broken. The remainder of the trip was filled with a pitter-patter of easy conversation. It wasone-sided for the most part, but easy listening that did not require much of a response from Azula, which suited her perfectly well. He asked her many questions, whether she had sailed much, where she was born, where her family was, what her father did for a living, whether she was engaged and when she was to marry. She wove in stories of the people she had known. Sometimes she was Guo Wei, sometimes she was Ty Lee, sometimes she was Yang, sometimes she was the different peasants she had overheard while on the road, and sometimes, just sometimes, she was Azula. For his part, Ting Hua told her about the features of their surroundings as they hugged the coast, there was the watch tower of a great general’s base, there was the village where he did most of his trade, there was the cliff-face where sea-eagles nested every year, if you followed that river a few kilometers upstream you would find Xihu, a floating village which was the only source of a giant freshwater crab that was popular in Ba Sing Se to eat steamed inside a platypus venom sack to improve a man’s vigour (and how he laughed when her nose wrinkled.)

Most days, the Captain caught fish off the side of the boat that he cooked over a grill wrapped in a lotus leaf. Azula would watch with a frown as he struggled against the wind with spark rocks and the cormorants would sun their wings on the gunwale, begging at Ting Hua and squabbling over the scraps of fish that fell from the grill. While she ate, they regarded each other with beady eyes until she threw the last of her lunch overboard for them to catch before it was lost in the water. Other times, if, during the day they passed by a fishing village they might stop to stretch their legs, and buy a basket full of fruit to snack on and a bowl of wet noodles. Azula was unsure of the payment arrangement Guo Wei had made with Ting Hua, but she bought him a bowl too, which he gladly accepted. Her paltry allowance barely covered her own needs, but she preferred to keep the Captain on side, and for a moment she could pretend she had all the wealth of a Fire Nation Princess to throw around in this village, so small it was not worth the ink it would take to add it to a map.

On the fourth day of their voyage, the water was particularly rough, with freezing arctic winds ripping along the coast, turning the ocean white. Ting Hua turned the boat in towards the coast, where it might be sheltered by the southern protrusion of land that extended towards Kyoshi Island. A vast expanse of swamp and wetlands extended as far as she could see, a foreboding sight made worse by the large strips which were regrowing, ancient unearthed root systems pulling out of the water allowing sediment to run free to muddy the water along its coast. It was an ugly sight, and Azula was anxious to leave the scar-marked landscape behind her. Even Ting Hua seemed distracted, the steady drip of his conversation surprising loud in its absence.

"What is this place?"

Ting Hua spared her a glance before looking again to the horizon.

"Foggy Swamp"

Azula rolled her eyes. Obviously it was a swamp.

"Yes, but what happened here?"

"Nothing that didn't happen anywhere else."

Ting Hua's voice trailed off again.

Gazing westward, a magnificent storm rolled slowly north, missing their boat except for a gentle drizzle of rain. With the sun falling in the sky, the swirling clouds and churned waves became oddly sharp and muted all at once. Each in their own worlds, silence fell upon them.

Hours later, as the dusk settled, and the roots of the mangroves cast long shadows that reached all the way to the treeline, Ting Hua beckoned Azula to the side of the boat.

"See there? That's the village where I was born"

He pointed to a spot in the distance, along the tree line. Azula squinted, but saw nothing but swampland, not even a clearing where a village square might have been.

"There's nothing there," she said with a frown. It was unsettling, the ghost of a town she could not see in the dying light, with only the sun drunk old Captain to speak it into existence. He could not be younger than 60, born decades into the war, but expansion this far south of the Earth Kingdom did not happen until far more recently. And Ting Hua spoke with a timeless pain, neither here nor there. Without looking from the area he had indicated, he nodded morosely.

“Raiders. Eventually, people fled. First to Omashu, then to Ba Sing Se once King Bumi surrendered.”

_One among thousands._

“You clearly stayed in Omashu.”

“My family have been sailing these waters for generations. I won’t leave.” Ting Hua blinked and looked at her. “And besides, people need to eat don’t they? Fish need to be caught! And besides, not much use for a fishing boat in Ba Sing Se!”

He let out a deep laugh and was pulled from his melancholy.

As night fell, Azula could not shake her unease. While Ting Hua snored on the opposite end of the boat, hidden underneath the tarp they had drawn up to protect them from the wind and rain, still drizzling, the Princess curled up by the gunwale and looked to the south. All the breathing exercises and all the cunning in the world would not cease the endless churning in her mind. For, but a few days away, lay a loose thread, and against all instincts of self preservation, she picked it up and pulled, despite the risk that all that held her together would come undone. And at the centre of it all, the heavy emptiness whose shape she knew only by that which it could not be filled, was Ty Lee. 

She was the pressing question, that, when words failed to answer (and they always did), Azula would simply trace the lines of. A soft finger dragged across her bottom lip, ran through her hair, now tangled with salt, warm across the palm of her hand, fitted, first to the contours of her back, then hard and sharp. Well worn lines rubbed raw to keep the bruise fresh. Lines she did not deviate from in case she forgot where they were, but then, with each iteration become hers. Lines, now hers, said whatever she chose them to, but because of this, never what she wanted. _Do you still feel me on your skin?_ She had left many marks on Ty Lee. Some, justified as a regrettable necessity, some left in anger and shame, and some ran far deeper than she had ever understood. Whatever they meant now, for better or for worse, she would soon know. 

They had not seen each other since that day at Boiling Rock. A decision that had very much been Azula’s. Lock her and Mai away, together, as _she_ so clearly wished. _Let them rot._ It was a merciful punishment for treason, by all standards, but by then there were few who cared enough, or had the daring to question her judgement. It was an attempt to section them off, close the door on anything that she could have once hoped for. And when, in the forced calm of the Asylum when a sweet scented letter came, a request for a meeting or something else, she turned down each and every one until they stopped. But the ghost of their friendship, or whatever they had between them, was not so easily refused.

\-----------------------

The little fishing boat fought against rain and wind and they sailed unevenly forth, along sheer cliffs topped with cherry blossom trees bearing fruit. Then south, to Whale Tail Island, before following the currents east, bringing them in line with Kyoshi Island while avoiding the underwater nest of the unagi. As he went, Ting Hua explained why he was sailing a certain way and pointing out landmarks that helped him navigate the treacherous waters surrounding the island, and Azula came to appreciate why Kyoshi Island had remained untouched by the war for so long. Isolated, strategically unimportant, and surrounded by natural hazards, whether they were the jagged rocks under shallow waters, or the fearsome sea creatures that lurked beneath, there was little reason to expend the resources to do anything but plunder the odd trading ship that passed this way. She realised, too, as they narrowly avoided striking another rock barely submerged in the low tide, that Ting Hua might be one of a handful of sailors who actually could navigate these waters. _Perhaps I was a little quick to question Guo Wei’s judgement._

Ting Hua did not know the substance of Azula’s reason to visit the Island, but was happy to ensure she arrived on the Island unseen. Together, they decided that Ting Hua would drop Azula off at the beach to the north of the Island in the early hours of the morning. Meanwhile he would sail to the main bay, purchase supplies at the village, and request permission from the village leader to anchor his boat and fish at the same beach Azula had disembarked. Then, once Azula had finished her business on the Island, she would have a quick escape. Easy as fruit pie.

Under the cover of darkness, Azula put on a chestpiece of woven leather armour that covered from her neck to her hips, fitting discreetly under her traveling coat. She pulled her bag onto her shoulder after checking for the hundredth time it had not been immersed in sea water. Before she leapt off the side to the shore, she turned to Ting Hua.

“Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, Ting Hua. And… thank-you for bringing me here.”

Without waiting for a response, she dropped over the gunwale, almost collapsing into the sand with her first steps onto the beach. It was soft and loose, and the ground felt like it was moving beneath her feet. From the boat, Ting Hua called out:

“Keep moving. Sea legs are worse when you are still.”

Azula cursed under her breath and staggered forward without another word. He was right, so she moved, keeping to the trees where possible. As best she could, she headed in the direction of the village pointed out to her from the boat. The sun had yet to appear on the horizon, and, although it was summer, she shivered under her coat. Her ears pricked at every sound: the Kyoshi Warriors were renowned for their ambushing capabilities and if she were to happen across them prematurely… This time she had no team by her side, and had been without consistent training for two years. It would be a disaster.

Fortune was on the Princess’ side, however. She found the main area of the village undetected, and in the foliage of the trees she could watch as the village came awake. As the sky turned pink, a rooster crowed, and Azula sat stiff in the cold, eyes itching from tiredness. The first to rise were those who worked from the land or the sea. Then those who worked at the markets. And then, distinct amongst the sea of blue, Azula spotted the green of the Kyoshi Warrior uniform, walking along the main pathway in the direction from which Azula came. From a distance, Azula guessed it was not Ty Lee, for she was far too tall and thin. But she watched as the Kyoshi Warrior was joined by another, then another, all spilling from the wooden houses lining the street. She squinted, trying to differentiate them all in vain before noticing one last warrior emerge from a house a little by the way. There was something in the way she walked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, that sent a rush of heat to Azula’s face. And when this Kyoshi warrior leapt forward and threw her arms around the others, causing them to yell in surprise, the subsequent burst of laughter made her blood run cold again. 

How strange to hear that laughter again, thin from being carried on the wind, but still as delightful as it had ever been. There was little time to be nostalgic, however. Azula mapped a route to the house from which Ty Lee had come, taking the time to note the points at which she was most likely to be seen as she made her way there. She kept to the backs of the buildings, and ducked beneath the low branches of the trees surrounding the sleepy little village. Besides a close call with a gaggle of children heading to a school building over the hill, she arrived at the house undetected. Not daring to attempt to enter through the front door, where a few pairs of shoes were stacked in an unruly pile, she passed the windows along the side of the house, chancing glances inside to see if anyone were home. Seeing no one, she slid open the window at the back of the house, and clambered inside.

If she held any doubts as to whether the wooden house belonged to Ty Lee before, they were eradicated as soon as she looked about her. Azula had never known someone as untidy as her old friend. It was a small house, consisting of just one main room, split into living space and kitchen and a bedroom by a wooden screen. It was furnished frugally, and yet, every surface seemed covered in … things! A pair of fans, one of which was cracked down the middle, rugs, and a blanket half fallen from the futon that took up the majority of the floorspace in the area Azula had fallen into. And then there were the clothes, hanging from hooks and strung over a chair, or piled on the floor. Azula suppressed a smile, thinking of all the times Ty Lee had blamed her disorganisation on her many sisters rummaging through her possessions in search of a stolen item, or on the fact they were travelling. It was not worth the effort of containing her things as they were only going to move on the next day, she insisted much to the displeasure of Mai, who kept as tightly contained her belongings as she did any hint of passion. There were no such excuses now.

  
At the table in the kitchen was a cup of tea (still warm) and a bowl of paper wrapped sweets. The Princess took one, and moved to look at the dresser. This was the one area of the house that was meticulously organised. There were ribbons, pink and green were wound into tight coils, pots of theatre makeup, and a sticky container of lip balm and other oils. She sighed. Azula did not know _what_ she was looking for but she did not find it there. She unwrapped the sweet and placed it in her mouth (dried hawthorn fruit), and sat beside the futon to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay im a tease (cue tears) and this was a tyzula reunion from afar. this chapter just got a lot longer than i was anticipating (how many times have i said that? lmfao) so i decided to split it in half. i figured it would be better to have an entire stand alone chapter to what happens next.
> 
> i was imagining when azula served guo wei tea she was thinking abt ursa serving azulon poisoned tea. i feel like growing up in a household where your mother murders your grandfather would give you some very strange hang ups lol.
> 
> while i was writing this i was listening to [this on repeat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPS1bTONSsw) and i didnt look up a translation of the lyrics until i had almost finished this chapter but it was oddly fitting? i feel like what im listening to often spills into what im writing, even if i'm not aware of it.
> 
> so yeah, what did you like, what did you dislike, what do you think is gonna happen? sometimes i can expand on stuff you really like/want to see more of (no promises though) so drop it in the comments and i'll see what i can do
> 
> always love hearing your thoughts and thanks for reading<3
> 
> p.s. i've got a lot on atm so my writing output may be a little slowed but i'm chipping away at it consistently so... pls stand by


	5. One Last Request: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> azula catches up with her ex (do NOT ask her about it, it was a MESSY breakup)

_ There was an almighty crash behind them, echoed by the screams of several teenage girls. As the roof of Chan’s Ember Island beach house collapsed, the blaze grew taller, billowing a plume of smoke high into the air. It was Azula who decided to set the whole place on fire. But not before watching Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee do a considerable amount of damage. Zuko even almost got into a fight with one of the party-goers who figured he might have a chance to stop their destruction, but he did not have to, for as soon as the boy saw the glint of steel in Mai’s sleeve, he stumbled back into the crowd. She only needed to glance at Ty Lee in the rafters, who, with a nod, flipped down beside her, bringing with her a heavily laden bookcase that landed with a bang. And before Chan could beg her to stop Azula set alight each of the wooden supports holding the rood in place. _

_ If Ty Lee had not grabbed her by the arm, nor if Mai had not taken Zuko’s hand in hers, and dragged them both from the burning house, they might have watched until the whole thing collapsed. All four ran, winded from laughing but fast from a dizzying rush of adrenaline, until they became lost in the rocky scrub that stood between the Admiral’s house and the perfect view of the beach. _

_ Mai had shrugged off Ty Lee’s arm from her shoulder to walk ahead with Zuko, earning the slightest of eye rolls from Ty Lee, followed by sheepishness when she noticed Azula’s smirk. The Princess found, after a long day of uncomfortable realisations she would rather not have faced, that the incessant nagging she felt with every social encounter was put to rest while she walked in the dark with her friends. Or more specifically, one friend, still vibrating with excitement, beside her. And the way her arm was still slung so casually around her shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world made Azula’s heart skip a beat in a way that had nothing to do with the act of property damage they had just completed. _

_ “Did you see his face! I think you made him cry when you started bending!” _

_ Ty Lee was gleeful at the thought. It was such a far cry from the girl who, not even an hour ago had been in tears over her own miserable family, airing out her deepest insecurities for all to see. And, an hour before that, in tears again due to Azula’s own jealous barbs. Yet here they were, arm in arm, laughing as if nothing had happened. Strange impervious girl. She regarded her with veiled curiosity. _

_ “I think he _ **_actually_ ** _ began to cry when you knocked that porcelain off those shelves.” _

_ “Hmm,” she looked thoughtful for a moment and then became playful again. “Those were  _ **_so_ ** _ old fashioned anyway.” _

_ Azula smirked. “They were antiques, Ty Lee.” _

_ Ty Lee shrugged, because, really, what did it matter to her. They were ugly, and they shattered delightfully. Looking pleased with herself, she readjusted her hand on the Princess’ shoulder, and for one dreadful moment, Azula thought she might remove it entirely. It was astounding to be held captive by one hand. But after a day overshadowed by nagging discomfort at the attention paid to Ty Lee and Ty Lee alone (and how she relished in it), it was far more of a comfort than she was willing to admit to have this point of contact now. She thought of those boys, sons of petty nobles with nothing to offer, fawning over the girl beside her, and felt that same acid burning her tongue, neutralised only now, as they walked together in the dark. The intensity of her feeling troubled her, moreso because it did not fit into anything she ought to be feeling at all. So she turned her mind back to something that she did understand: the pleasure of dealing ‘a deserving fate to the fools who were responsible for the troublesome thoughts that burdened her. In particular, the way in which their jaws dropped seeing Ty Lee swing from light fitting to light fitting, sending each one crashing down. _

_ “I don’t think those boys expected that from you.” _

_ The acrobat turned her head sharply towards Azula, more than a little guarded. But Azula had intended no insult or disapproval, and worried that her friend might withdraw, upset, she continued. “They never see it coming from you, do they?” _

_ There were a few moments while Ty Lee thought it over. _

_ “I guess not.” _

_ “Well I love it,” Azula said. “It’s funny.” _

_ Ty Lee broke out in a flustered smile and pulled her closer, while Azula stared determinedly forward. It never did take much to please Ty Lee, after all. But every allowance she gave her heart came with a warning. To give too much might overbalance the careful sums that governed her life. To give too much and she would always lose. Ty Lee knew the rules, and was acquiescent, but she also knew what it meant when Azula broke them. Surely that would be enough. They walked like that until at last they separated to walk up an incline towards Lo and Li’s house, where Mai and Zuko were waiting for them. Zuko was still surly, but no longer smouldering just under the surface like he had been all night. He and Mai had resolved their little spat then. _

_ “We’re going for a walk along the beach. Don’t wait up.” _

_ Or perhaps they were going to make up now? A disgusting notion. Mai gave them both a half-hearted shug, “I’ll see you guys later,” and followed Zuko down the path around the front of the house to the more secluded beach on the other side of the Island. _

_ Once the couple had disappeared from sight, and after exchanging glances, Azula and Ty Lee crept into the musty old house. Although the night was pressing on, neither of them were ready for sleep so they moved to the balcony that looked out over the water. There was the smell of smoke in the air, and in the distance the glow of Chan’s still burning house could be seen. That, and the use of hushed tones and suppressed laughter so as not to wake Lo and Li, made the air feel thicker, and the balcony smaller, as they whispered in each other’s ears. They sat close together, and with the moon hanging high above in the sky, the darkness provided welcome cover. _

_ Although she did not dare to turn her head towards her, Azula could sense Ty Lee’s furtive glances, and was not surprised when her voice became sly. _

_ “So, you never said what happened with Chan.” _

_ It was a topic she had been dreading. She hated to admit failure, particularly the kind of social humiliation that someone so charming and pretty as Ty Lee might never experience. But the burning house, still visible from the balcony, should have given away any lie she thought to tell. _

_ “He was an idiot who did not see the advantages of a partnership.” _

_ “What?! Why not? Did you laugh like we practised?” _

_ “ _ **_Yes_ ** _ , I laughed. But that wasn’t the issue. He had no ambition.” _

_ “Azula…” She sounded like she was trying not to laugh, and strangely, the Princess was not offended. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.” _

_ Now Azula scoffed, and gave Ty Lee a look that was almost pitying. _

_ “What does romance have to do with it?” _

_ The slight smile faded from her lips as they looked at each other. All of a sudden Ty Lee felt a world away, inscrutable even to her incisive gaze. She tore her eyes away. What good was it to linger, to pretend, even for a moment, even just to herself, that she was anyone else in the world? _

_ “This isn’t Love Amongst the Dragons, Ty Lee.” _

_ They fell into silence, watching the waves crashing on the beach below. But slowly, slowly, Ty Lee breached the distance between them, shifting closer until Azula could feel the warmth coming from her skin. Without saying a word, she gently laid her head on Azula’s shoulder, so Azula would only have to turn ever so slightly to place a kiss on the hair that framed her pretty face.  _

_ It hit her all at once while they sat in the dark, this impossible, inescapable situation she was in. Pinned in place by the girl by her side. _

\-----------------------

Azula had dozed off, head in hands, sitting on the bedroom floor, pulled from falling further asleep only when her head drooped a little too far forwards, and she straightened suddenly with a horrible lurch. Her vigilance had abandoned her about halfway through the day, when she realised how hungry she was, how weary she was from the week of sailing, and how early she had risen that morning. She had accumulated a small pile of dried hawthorn fruit wrappers and the discarded skin of a mandarin found in the kitchen beside her on the floor when she decided to rest her eyes, only for a moment. She intended to see Ty Lee, and Ty Lee alone. So at least the wooden screen would hide her from view if she heard foreign footsteps walking through the door. 

The colour had drained from the sky by the time Azula stirred from her anxious, fitful rest. Her eyes pricked at the sound of light footsteps in heavy leather boots that crossed first gravel, then the wooden balcony by the front door. She shook her head clear of the lethargy remaining after a day spent counting empty hours, and allowed the bubbling anticipation that had been lying in wait to course through her, making her sharp. Before the footsteps had crossed the threshold into the house, Azula had sprung to her feet, keeping low against the screen. And she watched the front door through a mirror on the dresser angled just so, as Ty Lee walked into her Kyoshi Island home.

Even with her makeup on, and after almost two years since Azula had laid her eyes on her, she was unmistakable for anyone else. The way she pulled the braid from her hairpiece and swung it over her shoulder, the way she moved between standing straight and tall and then slumping when she saw the kitchen that needed cleaning. It was all so achingly familiar. But, of course, she might as well not know her at all. For all the nights she spent combing over her memory, every glance, every split second of hesitation, asking herself was this the deciding moment that sent her crashing down, she still did not know. And that was the most frightening thing of it all. It went against her every ingrained instinct, to depend on the benevolence of the one person who had truly thrown her trust back in her face. But she had contingencies in place, however tenuous. And given the way Ty Lee dropped that ceramic cup, still half full from that morning, or the way her eyes widened when Azula stepped from behind that wooden screen to face her, she might just need them.

“Ty Lee, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

She spoke softly, but the note of slight menace in her voice carried clearly across the room. She would be lying if she denied the bud of satisfaction that blossomed in her chest on seeing the part form between Ty Lee’s lips, the way she seemed to shrink inside herself, if only for a moment, as if Azula spoke life into the apparition before her. It was at least preferable to the last time they saw each other, the Princess face down, immobile and awash with humiliation. Or Ty Lee’s preference, with Azula restrained behind a thick metal door, or catatonic from sedation. No, this was preferable. Here they were something close to equals, just two girls staring at each other across a messy room. Perhaps that is why that cold blossom faded, felt hollow. It was an empty threat, given her lack of training. She was in woeful condition. Hopefully, that fact would go unnoticed. Azula had not come here for a fight.

Ty Lee still had not spoken, or reacted much at all. Azula took a moment to sweep the room between them. There were several paces between them, and furniture as well, which would require Ty Lee some time to maneuver her way over to Azula, should the situation deteriorate.

“My my, I can’t say I expected to see you join the Kyoshi Warriors. First you betray me, and then you join a sworn enemy. You really don’t do things by halves, do you?”

Through the face paint, Azula saw Ty Lee’s features reform into a resolute frown, while her hands formed fists by her side. 

“What are you doing here, Azula? How did you even find me?”

The Princess had imagined these moments many times, playing images of all the different combinations of their feelings towards each other over and over, practising what she would say. Would they simply run away? Or fall into a heap, bearing their soul with apology laden promises? Would Azula attack Ty Lee like a rabid animal, dealing injuries equal only to her own? Or would tell her she was nothing, and leave her for dead? The most beautiful thing about those imaginings was that they could be shaped into whatever want Azula wished to indulge. In real life, she quickly found she was losing her footing. She was thoroughly unprepared for the firmness in Ty Lee’s voice, and for the way her own resentful hurt seemed to be bubbling under every word she said. 

“You’re touchy, aren’t you? Not even going to ask how I am?” 

She exhaled deeply through her nose. If she did not answer Ty Lee’s question quickly, she might find herself incapacitated, or worse. With every passing moment, the acrobat’s agitation seemed to increase, and if Azula did not get a hold over her own petulance over this far from welcoming response, she might come to regret it.

Without taking her eyes off Ty Lee, she leant over her bag to retrieve the leather wrapped scrolls that had thankfully not been destroyed by a week of rain and ocean spray. But even her watchful gaze could not counter the speed at which the acrobat threw herself over the table, through the air, and by her side. Nor too could her reflexive defensive movements evade Ty Lee’s incoming blows, ingrained, but dulled from lack of use. She felt Ty Lee’s knuckles make contact with her shoulder, but the hit was blunted by the leather chest piece, and instead of her arm falling limp by her side, it was simply weakened. She twisted to face the acrobat, and taking advantage of Ty Lee’s surprise at the use of her limbs, Azula used the weakened arm to knock her back. But her eyes widened only for a moment, before she struck forth again, this time with her leg. 

Azula stumbled backwards as her stance was broken by the unexpected attack.  _ That’s a new move. _ And before she could regain a more centred form, Ty Lee advanced, each of her strikes harder to counter than the last. Until at last, there was an opening, and Azula was able to grasp Ty Lee’s darting hand before it reached her neck. To her palm the Princess bent heat, not enough to hurt, but enough to be felt clearly through the thick armoured sleeve of the Kyoshi Warrior dress. She had pulled Ty Lee’s arm across her body so that she was unbalanced, and unable to continue her attack. 

“Stop it.”

Whether it was Azula’s words, or the fact that she did little more than hold Ty Lee’s arm in place, she did not know, but the acrobat paused, and looked Azula in the eye. They were both breathing heavily. Ty Lee’s arm was strong, and she could have pulled it free of the Princess’ grip if she so chose, but instead they simply watched each other. There little recognisable in the way Ty Lee’s features settled. Nothing to hint at adoration, or conspiratorial delight, not even the troublesome concern that became more and more frequent in their last months together. Her bewilderment barely contained the strain on her features. Azula found her voice again as she wrenched her jaw apart.

  
  


“Are you done yet, Ty Lee?” She released the arm in her grip and scowled. “I didn’t come all this way to attack you.”

Ty Lee looked more bewildered than ever. She remained where she stood, tense and at the ready, and as she retracted her arm, Azula saw her run her thumb over the raw knuckle that had made contact with Azula’s back. At least the armour had been for something. She retained her ability to bend, and, although weakened, she had use of her limbs. So as to avoid provoking another onslaught from the acrobat, she very, very slowly straightened upright. And for the first time since they faced each other, Ty Lee took in her appearance. Her eyes lingered on the soft green tunic where the leather armour poked out from under the travelling coat (running her thumb over her knuckle again), then up to Azula’s hair, cropped far shorter that she had ever worn it, and pulled into a loose ponytail (and how, in this moment, she wished she had brushed it before coming to Kyoshi Island), then following the curve of her cheek, her lips (chapped from wind and without rogue), before being fixed by Azula’s gaze. Without taking her eyes from Azula’s, she shook her head, and spoke in a soft, strangled voice. 

“Then why are you here after all this time? No one has known where you’ve been.”

Azula cocked her head. Ty Lee was standing very still. Her eyes were round, and underneath the thick red and black makeup, she could see they were pleading. Azula leant forward.

“Are you really so scared?”

Ty Lee inhaled deeply as Azula took a step towards her and away from the wall at her back, but otherwise, she stood her ground. The shock of the evening’s encounter was passing, and in its place was seething resentment that Azula directed squarely at the girl before her.

“That’s strange, because if I remember correctly you’re the one who has attacked me, not once, but twice now. So if anyone should be scared it should be me.”

Ty Lee’s face twisted into a grimace, and she shoved Azula back to the wall with one heavy movement. A movement that betrayed an emotion clumsy from disuse, and dangerous to no one. Azula had not even attempted to move from her place, taking the blow straight on. She did not even flinch when the back of her head hit the wall of the little wooden house, or when her tunic pulled uncomfortably against her shoulders where Ty Lee still held it. At another time she might have forced her off, berated her for daring to touch her Princess that way. Another time again she might have just kissed her. Now she just marvelled. 

Angry tears sprung from Ty Lee’s eyes when she spoke.

“You’ve hurt me too!”

It was rare to see such a raw display from Ty Lee, least of all directed at her. There had been times when Azula prodded her too hard, or lashed out and Ty Lee would sulk, or worse, her cheeriness became gratingly hollow. But this white hot condemnation was damning. For a moment she was gratified to draw something out of her that felt real. And the barely concealed pain in her voice was achingly familiar. Did Azula not hold the exact same sentiment, but directed towards Ty Lee? They felt it together and all at once, like it was passing from one to the other. Maybe that was why Ty Lee clung to the fabric at Azula’s shoulders as much as held her there against the wall. Maybe that was why Azula might still… 

Azula raised her arm slowly, so Ty Lee could see it, could stop her if she wanted, and moved it around to her back. It was easy to find what she sought, those two spots, mirroring hers. Even through the Kyoshi armour, even on another person, she followed down the spine, along the rib, and touched them one after the other, as softly as a lover. And when her fingers touched Ty Lee’s back, a little of that anger in her eyes dissipated. Maybe Azula could be gentle too, and maybe Ty Lee could be undone as easily as she. Maybe this was why she might still... 

“Why did you do it?”

_ Why did she do it?  _ That was the simplest question to ask. She had said the same to Mai, had she not? But it was altogether a different question to Ty Lee. With Ty Lee, where else could she begin but at the end? Did she not know the rules, that there were some even Azula could not break? Ty Lee had asked herself it too, she could tell. Her eyes did not glaze over like they sometimes did when she thought about something new. She did not even look surprised. She shrunk away as Azula dropped her arm to her side, as the words pulled together, left some behind, and at last spoke.

“You were going to hurt Mai.”

Her answer came out so softly she barely heard it. A simple answer for a simple question. Once upon a time she would have chosen to believe it as the entirety of the matter. After all, Ty Lee was never that good with words. Or maybe Azula just never listened.

The moment between them collapsed as she became aware of the dull throb where her head had hit the wall when Ty Lee pushed her, and the thick heaviness of her arm that had been chi blocked. A fat tear ran down Ty Lee’s cheek, leaving a line of black paint and Azula felt an awful lump in her throat as she swallowed.

“Get off me, Ty Lee.”

Ty Lee removed her hands from Azula’s shoulders and stepped back, never taking her eyes off her. Azula’s heart felt like a solid black stone in her chest, and she sighed deeply. Fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice, she said “Mai. You’d do anything for Mai, then.” 

But all Ty Lee did was deepen her frown. Another wounded standoff, each watching each other, not knowing where to go next. There was no resolution, no understanding that Azula had hoped for. Ty Lee, equally angry, afraid, and hurt, was not throwing herself at Azula’s feet to beg for forgiveness, but nor was she continuing her assault. Ty Lee was waiting for her, and she realised with a start that it was her being scrutinised, her performance awaiting judgement, and not, for the first time, Ty Lee’s. She could demand nothing from her, and from the way the Kyoshi makeup cast Ty Lee’s face like a mask as Azula spoke, she realised there was no point following that line of conversation further. Supposing she should be glad that at least Ty Lee had not yet called for help, or attempted to chi block her again, Azula put aside the ache that had been festering ever since she had set foot on Kyoshi Island.   
  


“You want to know why I’m here, Ty Lee? I have something for you. Well-” an ugly glint appeared in Azula’s eye, quite involuntarily, “- not really for you. But for Zuzu. Mai too, I suppose. It affects her as much as him now they are engaged.”

“What are you -”

Azula cut her off. “I was getting it out just before when you decided to chi block me.” She looked pointedly at her bag, forgotten, with its contents spilling out onto the floor some metres away. Some of the scrolls had fallen from the leather wrappings in their scuffle. Ty Lee followed her gaze with only her eyes, before snapping back to Azula. If anyone knew how cunning Azula could be, it was Ty Lee, and she would not let down her guard for a moment. 

“I want you to deliver it to my brother.” Azula held her breath for a moment. “Would you?”

The white and red planes of her face rotated into disbelief.

“We haven’t seen each other since-”

Ty Lee bit her lip.  _ Since Boiling Rock. Do you really want to go there, Ty Lee?  _ Her voice sounded strained, but unexpectedly firm. 

“We haven’t seen each other in years, Azula. You’ve been missing for over a year! And no one has known if you were dead or anything. And you’ve come to my home telling me to deliver something for you?” She shook her head. “I just- I don’t understand.” She looked Azula up and down again.

The throb at the back of Azula’s head became stronger, spreading to her temples and along the line of her jaw.

“What’s not to understand? I was gone, and now I’m here. See? It’s simple.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not planning on staying on this provincial little island you call _ home _ , if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Azula took a step away from the wall, causing Ty Lee to step away from her. But she merely repositioned against the wall, to take some weight off her legs, now hollow with hunger.

“Our new Fire Lord does not seem to be able to trust many people at the moment. But I suppose it comes with the territory.” Azula laughed humourlessly. “I don’t want those documents to go astray in the Capital, and I figured one of Zuko’s personal bodyguards might be the best person to ensure it gets to him.”

It was perfectly true, what she was saying, but given the reunion so far, Azula did not suppose there was any hope that their history would do anything but complicate her request. And the way the way Ty Lee’s face remained unmoved told her a personal favour would not be granted. It could not be helped, but it did hurt.

“If you won’t deliver it for  _ my  _ sake, I thought you might at least do it for the sake of Zuko. Or Mai. Like I said, it affects both of them if she is to be the Fire Lady. Assuming your loyalty to her hasn’t wavered too. Or do you answer to the Earth King now?”

“I don’t answer to the Earth King! And I don’t answer to  _ you _ !”

Ty Lee’s words echoed in the space between them. Her voice, normally so much like birdsong, sounded strange in the Princess’ ears.

“Fine. Look at those scrolls, the ones on the floor. Decide for yourself if you want that information kept from Zuko.”

Ty Lee glared at her, but when Azula shrugged, irritated, she walked to the bag, never taking her eyes off the Princess cornered in her room. Unrolling one scroll, her eyes lost their skepticism as they moved across the neat script. She pulled another free, then another, scanning them quickly while Azula watched on. When she had rifled through several of the scrolls, realising they all followed the same format she looked at Azula out of the corner of her eye. 

“Some of the names I don’t recognise but this one,” she indicated to a scroll in her hand, “General Wang? And this one? They’re wanted by…” she thought for a moment, “by everyone. What are you playing at?”

“They are all wanted, Ty Lee. And if their location was found by, say, the Earth Kingdom, it would put the Fire Nation in a very difficult position. They’re our people. They should be apprehended by us.”

“How did you get this information? Have they been sheltering you?”

Azula huffed and batted away the question. “It doesn’t matter how I got it. The point is, I’m giving it to Zuzu. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.” 

“That doesn’t sound like something you would do out of goodwill, Azula.”

She could have laughed, because of course Ty Lee was right. This entire exercise was one born of necessity. If anyone needed a gesture of goodwill right now, it was her. 

“Maybe you’re right, Ty Lee. You do know me better than anyone, don’t you?”

Ty Lee did not answer. It was not a question. Not one that could be answered in words, anyway. 

“I want a fair hearing with Zuko. But we both know I won’t get one. So give him those documents. He can investigate the quality of the information if he wants, but if he moves to catch any of those people before meeting with me, the rest will go to ground.” Azula smirked. “What you have in your hands is just a taster.”

For the first time that night, Ty Lee did not appear ready to attack her at a moment's notice. Instead, she looked… conflicted. Curious almost, but fighting against it. If Azula knew anything, it was that Ty Lee loved being the confidant. She loved the privilege of being the first to know something, trading gossip and silly secrets at the Royal Fire Academy For Girls. And later, being a willing audience for Azula when she shared news from the court, and sometimes even from the throne room itself. And with enough coaxing and flattery, Ty Lee even became privy to Azula’s own secrets, small and large that she told as if they were nothing, knowing her friend would sooner die than spread them from behind the hand that she whispered. And even now, under such circumstances, Azula could see that same interest piqued; she was a sensational gossip, but never prying, and always discreet.

“What do you want from Zuko?”

_ Fancy thinking I would tell you. _

“I want a meeting with him on neutral ground. Anything more than that is between him and me.”

For a moment Ty Lee looked offended that she had been rebuffed. The new lines between them were being drawn, and they were both unsure exactly where they lay. She looked again at the scrolls, the names and associates Azula had collected together over weeks of correspondence, and then back to Azula. 

“So, Ty Lee, will you give these to Zuko?”  _ Will you do this for me? _

And Ty Lee, after a moment, opened her mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door. 

They both froze where they stood.

“Ty! It’s Suki.”

Azula felt the air leave her lungs. She had been so focused on Ty Lee that she didn’t even hear Suki approaching. Given their past encounters, Suki was the last person she wanted to be discovered by in this compromising situation. Her and Ty Lee stared at each other, Ty Lee resembling an old doll with her makeup and dress, so wooden she appeared. She would just have to call out to Suki, invite her in, or begin another scuffle with Azula that she surely would win, and it would be over, and Azula’s gamble lost. 

“Ty Lee! Are you home? Everyone’s waiting for you at Rin’s place.”

Hearing this second call, Ty Lee’s face shifted, although as incomprehensible to Azula as before. She quickly glanced about her, deciding what she might do if Suki came inside. She did not dare face both Ty Lee and Suki in hand-to-hand combat, and it was clear she would have to resort to bending. Setting the house alight would attract only more attention to her presence here, but it might be her only chance of escape. Although in this case, the scrolls would be lost too, and with them everything, she had been working towards. Her only hope was with Ty Lee. She could not make a sound, so with her eyes she begged.

Ty Lee took in a breath, and Azula held hers.

“Hey Suki, I’m just- I’m just cleaning myself up. I’ll be down when I’m done.”

Through the door they heard Suki laugh.

“Don’t keep us waiting all night!”

Ty Lee squeezed her eyes shut, and said “I won’t!” in as cheerful a voice as she could muster. If Azula had not been watching her, seeing the tension etched in every movement, she would have sworn Ty Lee really was excited to be meeting up with the Kyoshi warriors as soon as she could. As the footsteps faded, Azula was sick with relief, but Ty Lee looked as upset as ever. She gathered the scrolls in her hands, and placed them back in their leather wrapping. All her energy seemed to have been drained. She looked as tired as Azula felt.

“I’ll take these to Zuko.”

The Princess could scarcely believe it. It took every last bit of strength not to slump down the wall and collapse at Ty Lee’s feet, or to pull Ty Lee towards her and press her skin, to check if she were really there. But she resisted on both counts, and just nodded. Not wanting to push her luck any further, Azula moved to pick up her bag, giving Ty Lee a wide berth.

“It sounds like you have somewhere to be. I won’t keep you.” 

Azula one last scroll from her bag, this one sealed, and held it out for Ty Lee.

“This is for Zuko also. Instructions on how he can contact me. I would encourage him to get in touch as soon as he can. I can’t guarantee the locations of those people for long, so the sooner we arrange a meeting, the better.”

Ty Lee hesitated over the letter, looking up at Azula with dark eyes.

“That’s it?”

_ Was that it? _ It sounded like such a simple question, but for once Azula was lost for words.

“I-” 

Azula had to swallow.

“Thank-you. For doing this.”

  
  


“Please don’t make me regret it,” Ty Lee breathed, and took the letter.

With nothing left to say or do, Azula made for the window by the futon. Sliding it open, she looked back at Ty Lee, who was fiddling with the leather in her hand and watching her every move. She could barely make out her features, only the blocks of makeup painted on her face.

“I knew you would find me here. As soon as I heard you had escaped. I knew it.”

  
Ty Lee always  _ had _ known Azula better than anyone. The Princess slipped out of the window, and into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ty lee really thought she was gonna get home from, smoke that other half of that blent, put on a face mask and soak in the tub for a while before kicking it w her girls rin and suki and instead she got azula being a menace in her very own home..... yeah . poor ty lee
> 
> azula was kind of up to her old tricks here, but who said redemption was a linear journey? i hope ive done some justice to how ty lee might reasonably react to this situation. 
> 
> anyways this chapter consumed me like... praying now i have put it on here i can have some peace and some of the real life shit ive been neglecting (oops).
> 
> this tyzula chapter has been a long time coming! please let me know what you thought!
> 
> was it as big a train wreck as you thought this reunion would be?
> 
> P.s. that flashback at the beginning was kind of when ty lee and azula both realised they liked each other and it wasnt just one sided and it preceded that scene from the first part of this series where they kiss for the first time


	6. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula prepares to meet up w her estranged brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. did you miss me? i've missed you! sorry it's been so long - ive been so busy i've barely had time to do any writing. but i should have much more time from now on so hopefully chapters will come out every fortnight or so . this one's a bit of a reprieve from all the action of last chapter.

Zuko’s letter arrived at her Omashu apartment on the back of a pedigree messenger hawke, so grand and handsome it could only belong to royalty. Thankfully, her foolish brother had at least removed the Royal Fire Nation insignia from its harness. And upon viewing the contents of the scroll, she was relieved to see he had abided by the instructions Azula had given to him to reduce the likelihood that, should the hawke be intercepted, its intended recipient would remain unknown. Discretion was no sure thing from Zuko.

But before she even really began to consider that this was the first contact with her brother in almost a year, she thought of Ty Lee. For whatever reason, her old friend had decided to help her, when no such help was warranted. During the week-long trip back to Omashu, with little to distract her, Azula’s doubts grew as she reviewed her hours on Kyoshi Island over and over. It was hard to turn her mind from the misery in Ty Lee’s voice, the quickness to anger, which had rarely before been unleashed on her, and of course the casual intimacy with which she addressed the other Kyoshi warriors that created knots in Azula’s stomach. But most of all was perhaps the false cheeriness she had used to divert Suki from the house. The moment that held both the most promise for Azula, that there was something that still bound Ty Lee to her, but also the least. Azula might have never really known her at all. But now, holding the letter from Zuko, which could have only found its way to Omashu if Ty Lee fulfilled her promise, some of that doubt was pushed aside. 

But it was not just Ty Lee who had helped her reach the point where she could enter into negotiations with the new Fire Lord. Guo Wei played his part, although mostly unbeknownst to him. And at last she could offer him something in return. A fact that made her far to happy than she cared to analyse. So despite the sun being far below the horizon and her curfew officially in force, she slipped out the door and walked briskly to his house. 

Guo Wei had a guest over. She could hear their mummering through the door, and recognised immediately the soft tones that she had only heard him use once before. She knocked on the door, and at once was the sound of two pairs of footsteps shuffling inside. Guo Wei opened the door to Azula waiting for him, crossing her arms and tapping her foot with impatience. He immediately stood aside to let her in.

“You’re not a secretive as you think,” she said as she crossed the threshold. “I can hear you both talking from outside.”

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight, Azula,” was all he replied.

The Princess walked easily into the living space, glancing into the corners of the room. 

“Clearly. We had no plans to meet after all.”

She turned back to Guo Wei. “Well, isn’t it about time I met him. Properly. Your…”

She trailed off, to see if Guo Wei would provide her with the appropriate label for his guest, but all he did was sigh and fix her with a very piercing stare. In the months she had been in Omashu, she had never crossed paths with Guo Wei’s paramour, besides their near encounter on the night she first arrived at his doorstep. And Guo Wei never evaded the questions she threw at him (half the time only to see if she could provoke a response), and he only remained stone faced, maybe only twitching his lips in what could have just as easily been amusement as annoyance. Maybe he sensed from the lightness of her step her good mood, for he chose to indulge her curiosity.

“Kwan. Come out.”

Kwan was rather tall, and rather younger than Guo Wei, as it turned out. She placed his age at about 30, with long black hair worn up high on the crown of his head, and dressed in the fashion of a low level clerk of the city. He was a fair bit more handsome than she had expected, and she had to refrain from smirking too heavily, and merely raised an eyebrow brow at Guo Wei. Once he had stepped fully from behind the door that led to the private quarters of the house, he bowed to her, before straightening and looking her square in the face. It was then that she felt lurching recognition.

“I know you,” she said accusingly. “You’ve followed me before. When I was getting lunch. Did Guo Wei put you up to that?”

Irritation prickled at her skin. The feeling of hidden watchful eyes on her was one she had failed to shake in the years since Sozin’s comet. She did not know whether to be relieved there cause for her suspicion, or angry that Guo Wei would unnecessarily provoke her in such a way. Kwan floundered under the Princess’ glare and looked helplessly to Guo Wei for assistance. He swept in between them, and gestured towards the table. 

“Azula, please sit down. Kwan has only been making sure you are safe during your stay here.” 

Smooth as silk and softly spoken, she was reminded again why Guo Wei found such success in his line of work, and why she sought him out in the first place. She let his words ease over her, and exhaled deeply. Rolling her eyes, she kneeled at a cushion by the head of the table. And when Kwan hesitated to join her alongside Guo Wei, she tutted, and said, “You’d make a very poor spy.” After their host gave him a slight nod, in such a way that hinted at the intimacy between them, he sat at his place at the table too.

Once they had both settled, Guo Wei began with what passed as polite conversation.

“I have not yet been able to ask whether your voyage home from Kyoshi Island was pleasant.”

He asked for Kwan’s benefit, as Azula had sent him a note as soon as she arrived back in Omashu.

“It was fine. Although, where on earth did you find that fisherman?”

Kwan snickered, earning a look of reproach from Guo Wei. Azula turned her attention back to the nervous clerk.

“What? Who was he?” 

“He owed a debt of favour to Guo Wei from the war.”

“And?”

Guo Wei shifted uncomfortably on his cushion. “Ting Hua was a smuggler. A fact I became aware of due to … inconsistencies in the records kept at the docks. Money flowing from unusual sources. I looked the other way.”

“What kind of smuggler?”

Azula had never seen Guo Wei look so uncomfortable.

“A weapons smuggler. In and out of the city.”

“You put me on a boat with a resistance smuggler? That was the only person you could get a hold of?”

“At such short notice, yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think it necessary, given how cautious you are.”

Azula was completely astonished by this piece of news. Had he known who she was, Ting Hua could have thrown her overboard and left her to drown at any point of the journey to Kyoshi Island. And it only would have taken Guo Wei to drop her name. Ting Hua had more than enough grievances with the Fire Nation to want to kill a member of the royal family. Curious, then, that he did not. Curious, that the mandarin she had taken for a self-serving opportunist, now kneeling so upright looking between her and Kwan, hands in sleeves and face to immaculately still, might spare both her and the resistance smuggler for no apparent gain.

“I never picked you as one to play both sides, Guo Wei.”

He simply pursed his lips,  _ how boring _ , so she turned to Kwan with a nasty smile playing on her lips.

“And _ you _ knew about this?”

“Azula,” Guo Wei interjected, before a flustered Kwan could respond.

She demurred; her point made.

“Anyway,” she continued, “that’s not what I came here to talk about.” 

Having given Kwan a look of reproach, Guo Wei turned his attention to Azula, expectant and waiting.

” _We_ are going on a trip,” Azula said, with such command in her voice that it was clear there was no question about it.

“We are?”

“We are. Well, not you Kwan,” she said, shooting a perfectly relieved Kwan another nasty look before turning back to Guo Wei.

“I’ve gotten us an audience with the Fire Lord.”

Azula relished anytime she made a crack in Guo Wei’s practiced stillness. It reduced the feeling she was being handled by him. This time she had truly shocked him. Rather than explain, she simply handed him the letter from Zuko. And as he scanned it, he raised his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. He had thought she was stalling; a dead weight growing heavier with each passing week. Not for much longer.

“For what purpose?”

“To negotiate my return to the Fire Nation. This was always a short term arrangement. Help me sort out the finer details, and I’m sure Zuzu will be happy to compensate you for your hospitality.”

It was a risky plan, of course. Zuko had been content to leave her rotting in an asylum, as good as a prison, for an indefinite amount of time; his compassion extending as far as to let her enjoy the midday sun unchained. And then only because she had been in such a wretched state she was barely a threat to her unarmed keepers. Until she proved otherwise. Her abilities had always been an asset. But with Zuko as Fire Lord, they were a liability, unless she could convince him they would not be put to use against him. Easier said than done. But after two years of the kind of turmoil she imagined the Fire Nation was facing, inside and out, he might just be desperate enough for an ally to hear her out. Not that she would leave it to chance.

Before that, however, they needed to reach an accord on the terms of their meeting. Thus began yet another correspondence. In his initial letter, Zuko had provided her with a return address that would escape the attention of anyone but him and his most assuredly loyal servants; who would think to sneak a look at the mail of the lowly boy who served the attendants of the court? Beyond that, there was the matter of ensuring neither one of them planned to trap the other in an ambush. A neutral meeting place, hosted by a neutral mediator. They needed to agree upon security measures, upon who would be present from each side, and just how long the Fire Nation could spare its Fire Lord.

With Guo Wei, she began to narrow down what could  _ not _ be negotiated, and what areas they had a little more give. Of most importance to Azula was the mediator, and for this she leaned heavily upon Guo Wei’s expertise. While Kwan picked at the remains of the food still laid out on the table, Azula and Guo Wei narrowed down a list of candidates from all over the Earth Kingdom. Men outside of the expansive Earth Kingdom civil service and Ba Sing Se nobility who had benefited in some way, shape, or form from the Fire Nation occupation, but who were not known to be enmeshed with the current regime of the Fire Islands. 

When, once or twice, Guo Wei suggested a name that Azula herself knew, those located mainly on the outskirts of the former colonies who protected the very same fugitives that Azula was delivering to Zuko, she protested, subtly as she could. The carefully balanced scales almost tipped, a confession almost made, but held back at the last minute. She was not prepared to tell him how, exactly, she had managed to convince her brother to meet with her. He heard her insinuations, but never pressed. He was so compliant. Azula almost wondered whether Guo Wei knew about all her information gathering and her plans on surrendering the traitors to the Fire Nation to Zuko. 

After some hours passed, they decided on a short list of mediators to send back to Zuko, giving him the final choice. Guo Wei hurriedly wrote that and a list of other conditions onto a scroll. For added secrecy, Azula dictated to him a code that felt ancient. A secret childish code she had devised with Zuko all those years ago. She did not trust the messenger hawke, nor the servant boy who would deliver the message to the Fire Lord himself. A final safeguard, and maybe a reminder of the time before they were so estranged from each other. From the window of Guo Wei’s living room, she watched as the messenger hawke flew back to the Fire Nation.

\-------------------------------

They were sitting in a cart pulled by an ostrich horse along a paved road leading to the gates on a large estate at the foot of the largest mountain in the range in the centre of the western coast of the Earth Kingdom. Looking up at its peak, Azula wondered whether from there she would be able to see the easternmost of the Fire Islands out across the sea. Beside her, Guo Wei rearranged his sleeves for what felt like the thousandth time. Ever since they had disembarked from the ferry (far more comfortable than Ting Hua’s fishing boat as it turned out) and into the cart sent by the mediator, Bao, that had been agreed upon by both parties, Guo Wei had been preening in his seat like a self important iguana parrot. Whether he was uncomfortable, apprehensive, or simply bored she could not say, but it irritated her nonetheless.

He cleared his throat, then, not in the absent minded way he so often did, as she had learnt over the previous week traveling together, but rather a pointed way that could not be ignored. He titled his head towards the window by his side. She leant over, craning her neck to see what he was gesturing towards. Coming around the corner was an imposing wall of brick and stone. It stood four stories high, and was topped with a wooden roof painted gold and green, and into it carved decorative embellishments. A cylindrical fortification jutting from the surrounding earth. As the cart drew around a bend in the road, she saw beyond the wall as it curved around behind itself. Built into the hills at the foot of the mountain were other, smaller structures; circular fortresses at least three stories high, though none as grand as the one nearest to them. 

They followed the bend of the wall until they came to a gate large enough to receive the entire ostrich horse and cart. Azula exchanged a glance with Guo Wei as they passed inside the walls of the fortification. This was the point of no return. With the sun blocked from view inside the tunnel that led from the gates of the outer walls to the inner courtyard, they saw only the guards for the place, standing upright in the glow of crystal light. As agreed with Zuko, neither Earth Kingdom nor Fire Nation soldiers were to be present for the meeting. In fact none but the siblings and an advisor each, Guo Wei being hers, were to be admitted into the estate. They had agreed on nothing but the finest security, and given the thick walls between them and their surroundings, and the glint of the blade of the guard who was peering through the carriage window, the only trouble that would be tolerated within the fortress would be of the guard’s own making. Azula was unsure whether or not to be comforted by the thought. 

At last they passed out into the open air of the circular courtyard within the walls. Inside, rooms were built into the walls, and delicate, dark cherry wood balconies overlooked a great well, the manicured garden and the walled structure that could have been an semi open shrine in the centre of the courtyard. With only one entrance, and the windows she had seen from the outside at least 3 stories above ground level, it could be a death trap. As a well dressed man became visible, waiting to greet them as their cart came to a stop, Azula shot Guo Wei with a glance.   
  
“Are you sure about this?” she asked.

“This was your idea, Azula.” He pressed his lips together. “But I will be by your side. Come. Bao is waiting for us.”

The carriage door was opened by a guard, and Azula stepped into the sun.

\---------------------------

They were given a tour of the fortification. Bao, the master of the land surrounding the walled property, told them with great enthusiasm how he came to acquire the heavily defended dwelling that dated back to the time of Chin the conqueror. Azula did not pay much attention, allowing Guo Wei to speak with his old acquaintance on her behalf; she was tired from the long journey and anxious to be left alone to prepare for her meeting with Zuko the following morning. But Bao was unperturbed, showing them the nooks from which an earthbender could land an attack on outside forces through the walls of the fortress itself, and gushing over the drainage system that allowed the fortress to withstand even floods, or mudslides from the adjacent mountains. 

Azula looked back at the children on the balcony, family member’s of Bao’s who lived on the upper floors, stealing glances down at the honoured guests. She thought of another pair of children who hid behind curtains and secret doors listening to things they shouldn’t. She was brought crashing back with an enquiring look from Bao, who apparently asked for her opinion on something. She was saved from embarrassment when her memory caught up with her and she spat out a half-way decent response. 

After an elegant dinner of six courses, hosted by Bao and his family, at last Azula was shown to her room. On her bed she laid out the clothes she was to wear the following day. She ran her fingers over the soft linen, and pressed at the creases to neaten them. They were of a high make, although not befitting a meeting with a monarch. Such a thing would be beyond Guo Wei’s salary. Not that Zuko would notice what she was wearing. It would never even occur to him to care about such a thing. No, any attempt at finery would be for her benefit; maybe if she looked the part she would feel there was a place for her back at the Caldera Capital. Maybe if she was dressed like a Princess, she could forget for a moment that the last time she saw her Brother she was barely lucid in asylum robes. When they finally sat across from each other, what  _ would _ Zuko see? His vindictive sister, just another in a long list of threats to his rule? Or would she strike a more pathetic note, a wayward girl who had lost her faculties and was desperate to return home after giving everyone a big scare? Or, would he, as she hoped, see an asset? 

As she knew him, Zuko was all too soft and all too hard to be effective in the Capital. They had both grown up in Caldera, but whether it was his temperament, or plain and simple willfulness, Zuko refused to be shaped by the rules of the palace. Azula, however, thrived in the viper’s nest. And didn’t Zuzu know it. That she was also terrified of being captured by either the Earth Kingdom, or forced to return to the Fire Nation as a prisoner was something she would prefer not to share with her Brother. Sure, he would save a turtleduck from a puddle of water, but Azula was no turtleduck, nor did she wish to be saved.

As the night grew deeper, Azula slept with one eye open in the dark of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big day tomorrow for the fire nation siblings. gonna be a blast i think.
> 
> i know this was a bit of a slow one but hopefully you still enjoyed. and things will pick up again in the next chapter.
> 
> i got so distracted with bao's backstory and the background of the fortress but i never ended up including it bc it wasnt really relevant. basically the fortress is inspired by tu lous (although bao's one was not a self contained village, it was just a big grand house designed like a tu lou) and i had all these cool ideas about how they'd defend them against earth benders when theyre made of earth. have you ever noticed how often fortresses in atla are circular? interesting... but anyways.... not to be
> 
> if you were wondering who kwan was, he was the guy who set off azula's paranoia when she was eating noodles back in chapter 3. she was right! she was being watched! i felt it was about time she actually met him properly. also? guo wei's got game lmfaoooooo who would have known.
> 
> anyway, will be back w the next chapter hopefully before long. got a lot of ground to cover with the long awaited reunion with zuko so it might be a big one.
> 
> just wanted to say how much i appreciate the comments n those of you who find me on tumblr. i can't tell you how touched i am by the support and how important it is to keep me motivated. we really are on this journey together <3


	7. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zula meets up w zuzu. negotiations are had. awkward carriage rides ensue

Azula watched him arrive. She was standing on the uppermost floor balcony, leaning over the railing so she could see him. And she did; before he saw her, she watched him. He looked so small down by the entrance, even though she was only a few floors above him. His pointed boots echoed over the stone of the courtyard, up, up, up like applause in an arena.

He was wearing a travelling coat, the kind he always wore when he was trying to be inconspicuous. But it was warm enough that he stood out, and sure enough he took it off before long, handing it to a servant who was standing just ahead to greet him. The first thing she noticed was the crown, glinting like a blade in the sun. And even though she had expected it, it was still a shock. And with his hair worn longer than she remembered, those sweeping robes, for a moment he looked like- 

_ Dad? _

Was it fear uncoiling itself in her stomach?

__

_ No, not Dad. Zuzu. _

And then he turned around, eyes sweeping the lanterns that hung from the balconies, higher and higher, until he saw her too. She did not step back. She thought about it; the door to her room was right behind her, and a column to her left that would easily hide her. But she let him see her, watched him freeze as he recognised her, and she felt a sick smile paint across her lips even though she had no reason to smile. When she tried dropping it, it bled at the edges. In an equally involuntary movement, Zuko’s fists balled, just visible beneath the drooping sleeves of his robes. 

So they looked at each other for a moment, or maybe two; she was not exactly counting down the seconds, just looking down at him with that terrible grin that made her cheeks hurt. And then reverberating around the walled courtyard she heard Bao walking with someone whose laugh boomed, whose eyes she could almost hear crinkle. And Zuko looked towards the sound of their Uncle while Azula stepped back into her room. It seemed so obvious in hindsight, that Zuko would bring Uncle. That once he chose Azula over Uncle, but then he chose Uncle over her. And here he was telling her he would do it again. Why did he have to make it so  _ personal _ ?

It was dark in her room; hardly any light made its way in through the small square window in the earthen wall, and the glow of the green crystal lamps did hardly anything to break through the dim. Standing as close to the window as possible, she painted actual rouge on her lips in the reflection of that tarnished gold pocket mirror. And when the sun rose in the sky and the shadow of the gnomon on the sundial disappeared, her and Guo Wei went to wait in the confines of the shrine at the centre of the courtyard.

* * *

Seated at the table in the centre of the shrine, the balconies overlooking the courtyard disappeared from view. Zuko and Uncle had not yet arrived, but a servant had already placed a cast iron teapot in the centre of the table, surrounded by four cups. Oolong tea. Azula half remembered Bao saying his family growing tea not far from here, that it was dried in the sun of a courtyard of one of the fortifications on the mountain. No doubt he was eager to impress Iroh with his product. Maybe that was even how Bao knew Iroh and Zuko. They did run a tea shop in Ba Sing Se after all.

“Azula…” Guo Wei said softly, breaking the progression of her thoughts.

She had been staring into the steam rising from the spout of the tea pot. With his words, she became aware of the footsteps approaching them.

Seeing he had opened his mouth to speak again, she quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t say anything unless they speak to you directly. I will handle this. I just need you… here.”

As Guo Wei gave her a probing look, which she ignored, Iroh appeared at the entrance. It was so very like him to insert himself into anything between her and Zuko. Azula’s first thought was how much older he looked. His grey hair was increasingly turning white, and his hairline had crept even further towards the back of his skull. The last time she had seen her Uncle, he had refused to even look at her as he was transported to the Fire Nation on the brig of the ship. Now he met her eyes, but they were stone cold to the normal warmth he directed at anybody else but her. She spared a cursory glance at his clothes (a combination of finery of the upper classes of Ba Sing Se and Fire Nation nobility) before turning her attention to Zuko, who had just walked in behind him.

Seeing him from a short distance, Azula felt embarrassed she had mistaken him for their Father. For, while he had grown far taller in the year since she had seen him, he was drowning in the Fire Lord robes he wore. He appeared stiff and awkward in such clothes and in this place. Or maybe he was just unsure how to act before her. That permanent frown was still plastered on his face, but it was not clear if it was born out of confusion about the strange situation in which they found themselves, or the ages old begrudgement that had existed between them for as long as she could remember.

Azula found herself critiquing every inch of her brother, from the way he visibly clenched and unclenched his fists beneath his sleeves, to the uncomfortable way he hovered by the entrance, as if unsure where he was meant to stand, when it struck her - he still had not decided whether this would be a fight or a negotiation, despite the set table where she was already sitting, despite the dossiers she had already sent ahead with Ty Lee. And although Azula herself was counting on outright aggression being avoided, that was always easier said than done when Zuko was involved. She let out a silent, controlled breath and turned to Guo Wei.

  
“Would you pour us tea?”

She eyed her Uncle, remembering their last confrontation over tea. His presence was not one she had planned on. For, according to Guo Wei’s information, his location was unknown. He certainly had not been present at the Fire Nation court. Surely he was not still tending to his tea shop in Ba Sing Se?

  
“I hope you aren’t planning on spitting fire at me this time, Uncle.”

“And I hope you aren’t planning on ordering Dai Li agents to capture us this time,” he replied with warning in his voice, while Zuko hung back.

“I just wanted to talk. With Zuko actually, so I’m not sure why  _ you’re _ here.”

Zuko finally broke his silence.

“He’s here because I want him to be.”

Her Uncle’s presence was obviously a battle she was not going to win, so when Guo Wei had placed the four cups on each side of the table, Azula looked expectantly at Iroh and Zuko, who were still watching from the entrance. 

“Will you sit down?”

Iroh swiftly looked at Zuko, who was standing, staring at Azula, before taking a seat by Azula’s left side so that he was facing Guo Wei. And when Zuko still did not move, he said, “It would be our pleasure.” And while it was clear from his tone of voice that he felt none, he had decided to be civil. His words had the desired effect, and Zuko took his place at the table. 

“This is Guo Wei. He helped to arrange this meeting, and has been ensuring my safety in Omashu.”

Before Iroh introduced himself, Zuko interrupted.

“That’s where you’ve been hiding this whole time then?”

Zuko was apparently less intent on civility. Rather than being intimidated by his brusque demeanor, Azula was amused. If her brother did not care for pleasantries, then she was happy to oblige him. 

“Well, not _ just _ Omashu, Z-”

She disguised the beginning of his nickname by clearing her throat. There was no point needlessly antagonising him so early into the discussion. She did that well enough without even trying. 

“-brother. I also spent some time in the south of the mainland while I was evading your soldiers.  _ Really _ , I was disappointed they proved so ineffectual. It was like they were hardly trying.”

She raised an eyebrow to see if that provoked a response, but Zuko’s scowl remained where it was. She continued.

“In fact, I noticed that there were very few Imperial soldiers at all. It was as if you had ceded control of the south to the Ushi nobility. You know what -”

_ Dad always used to say. Conspiracies grow like weeds in an empty field. A strangely boorish turn of phrase for the man, but there was truth to it born from a history of clashes over the fertile volcanic plains of the Fire Isles. _

“- they say.”

“Why don’t you just say what you mean Azula!”

  
Zuko had raised his voice at her. It never took him long to lose his temper.. She saw Guo Wei shift in his seat as he raised the tea to his lips. Hiding the disapproving purse of his lips. He did that to her sometimes, she realised with a prickle of shame. 

“I mean you’re in trouble,  _ Zuzu _ . And you know it.”

Was Zuko ever  _ not _ in trouble? And was Azula ever not the one to point it out? She expected him to shout, maybe jump to his feet to kick his chair. But instead he lowered his voice to a dangerous level

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed. “Are you sure you weren’t just being paranoid? You also seemed to think the entire domestic staff of the palace were going to poison you if I remember correctly.”

Azula felt her throat grow dry as her cheeks flushed. That was a very unfortunate period of time to be reminded of, and she felt Guo Wei’s eyes flick from Zuko to her and back again. 

“Don’t patronise me. You’ll only make a fool of yourself. As it stands, I know there is discontent among the few nobles who you haven’t tried and hanged, or worse, surrendered to the Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko’s look darkened. If someone told her that her brother slept any easier than she did she would not believe them. When he clenched his jaw, it set the hollow of his cheeks in relief, and she could practically see the vein of his temple pulse.

“It’s not so easy is it, Zuko, being the Fire Lord?”

Azula said it almost kindly, if she were capable of being kind to her brother. Besides the two royal siblings at the table, there was only one other person alive who knew the truth of her statement and she very much doubted Zuko would turn to him for wisdom. And Zuko’s face shifted to something a little more -

Iroh cut in.

“After one hundred years of war, what Fire Lord Zuko is doing for the Fire Nation is going to take time.”

He emphasised “Fire Lord” in a way that was entirely irksome. But if Uncle felt he had to respond in Zuko’s place, maybe she had touched a nerve. Azula ignored his interjection, and Zuko had not removed his eyes from hers.

“If I’ve heard the rumours of how your rule is causing displeasure among the men you are meant to lead all the way from Omashu, well, I don’t want to imagine how easy it would be for someone less generous than me to capitalise on it.”

She cast Iroh a scornful glance.

“And they are not going to wait for you to change the world.”

The furrow in Zuko’s brow deepened, but his gaze did not waver.

“Have they already moved against you, Zuzu?”

Azula thought he might explode, then. But he thinned his lips and took a sip of his tea. Patience was a virtue for any diplomat.  _ Maybe Zuko had grown _ , she thought, since she had seen him last.  _ Although,  _ she glanced down at his knuckles, so white from clasping the ceramic cup it might just break in his hand,  _ he needs to work on curbing that temper.  _ Or at least to be able to conceal those vulnerable points that any savvy negotiator would take advantage of.  _ Someone like me. _

“It is hard to believe you would bring us all this way just to express your concern over Zuko’s reign.”

“Well I don’t remember inviting  _ you _ , Uncle!”

“He’s right, Azula. Why are we here?”

Azula leant back and took another sip from the cup in front of her. It was already cool. When she raised her head again, there were three pairs of eyes on her. She took a deep breath and - 

“I want diplomatic immunity.”

She looked at Zuko.

“And I want to come back to the Fire Nation.”

She tried to project an air of authority. This was a demand, and demands came naturally to Azula. But then her voice faltered and her demand became weak and pathetic and everything she didn’t want to be but was. Because she did not just want to return to the Fire Nation, but to her  _ home _ . She had rehearsed this line many times over the previous months, deciding what word to emphasise, what tone to use. But the sound got mangled in her throat rather than flowing in a cascade of confidence. The truth was, she missed the clean cut spice of Fire Nation food, she missed the sticky humidity and furious thunderstorms, she missed the scented oils and hot baths, the dark wood and ancient tapestries that covered the walls of the palace. She missed knowing her enemies and knowing her place. It was only too recently that her position with Zuko had been swapped. And that in itself was the worst punishment. That made the words taste like poison in her mouth.

But then Zuko sneered and shook his head.

“You left because you wanted to. And now you want to come back. Why should I think you have any reason other than to make my life more difficult?”

“Oh, don’t be so vain. And believe me, Zuzu, if I wanted to make your life difficult, I could do it from Omashu.”

If her cup had been full, her tea would be boiling. Zuko was stubborn, but surely not heartless. The big black hole of the asylum loomed before her. He had seen her in that place. He had seen how wrong it was, hadn’t he? Why else would he have ordered for her restrictions to be lessened? Why else?

“You didn’t expect me to stay in that-”

She struggled to find the word, thick fog clouding her thoughts.

“-that place?”

And it felt like everything was falling apart. It never used to be so difficult to hold everything at bay. But then she had everything to lose, and a single hair out of place might threaten the carefully curated image of the perfect Princess she had to be. She had been playing rough out in the Fire Nation backwater and the fallen New Ozai long enough. And from the depths of despair on her almost coronation, well, a crack in her voice was forgivable. It might not even register with the new Fire Lord. But it did with Iroh.

“You were unwell, Azula,” he said, breaking the quiet left in the wake of her question.

Unwell. She had been unwell. So deeply unwell she had lost herself completely. And even now she was still finding the parts of herself, chipped and broken, that did not quite fit anymore.

There was a gentleness in his tone that rubbed her raw.

“There’s no need for the hushed tones, Uncle,” she hissed. 

“You only put me in there because you thought I was a  _ threat _ !”

Zuko stood up so fast his cup knocked over onto the floor and split in half. He had grown taller since she last saw him. And although she did not show it, she was intimidated by him leaning over her, fury etched into every feature of his face. Even Guo Wei next to her leaned back in his chair, and she could feel him hold his breath. Iroh, however, looked more troubled by the lukewarm tea pooling at Zuko’s chair. She guessed these little outbursts were still a common occurrence.

“You  _ are  _ a threat, Azula. And you don’t get to speak to Uncle like that anymore. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to bring you back to the Fire Nation just for you to play your stupid games with me.”

She was not exactly surprised to see Zuko lash out, but it put her on edge, and snapped her out of distractions from the past. She needed to focus, and her pathetic complaints would serve no purpose here. She crossed one leg over the other. Resisting the temptation to point out the obvious, that only one of them was trying to intimidate the other and that was Zuko, Azula changed tact.

“I won’t deny that I  _ am _ very capable,” she started, a smile playing on her lips, “but I don’t have to work against you.”

Zuko’s face twitched. He obviously did not trust her, but she took his silence as an invitation to continue.

“The dossiers I sent you, did you send someone to verify them?”

The change in topic left him flustered. He glanced at Guo Wei, who had arranged his features into the least discernable composition Azula had seen, and to Iroh, who was frowning at Azula. Zuko lowered himself into his chair again.

“Yes.”

“And everyone was where I said they were, no?”

“Yes.”

“And I hope your people did not get caught.”

“Of course they didn’t!”

“Hmph.”

That had been no sure thing.

“I have a dozen more dossiers. You could take them all out in a single night.”

Azula retrieved a tightly rolled up scroll from the pocket of her robes and pushed it across the table to Zuko. But Iroh picked it up and unrolled it, to Azula’s annoyance. As he read it, his frown deepened.

“These names would not have been easy to find,” he said at last.

A wicked smile spread across Azula’s face. “That,” she said, her voice imbued with pride, “was nothing.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Guo Wei do a double take at the dossiers. It was unfortunate that he would find out about her double crossing in such a way, but he could not be trusted not to warn them before this meeting.

Zuko, however, was not convinced the dossiers meant anything at all.

“You’ve given me no reason to think you won’t just turn on me as soon as you’re back in the Fire Nation.”

Azula spoke in a dangerously soft voice.

“Like you did to Dad when I brought you home?”

She sighed. After a pause, in which Zuko wordlessly opened his mouth, and Iroh narrowed his eyes at her, Azula laid bare her proposal. 

“I don’t take joy in seeing you run our nation into the ground, but I don’t want to see our dynasty fall. I know how things work in Caldera. Let me help you. And if you don’t give me a reason to turn on you, I won’t.”

Azula shrugged carelessly. 

“It’s really quite simple, Zuzu.”

They took a break from the meeting. Iroh and Zuko had exchanged looks and rose in unison, no doubt to discuss her proposal in private. Azula did not bother returning to her room. She instead walked along the outer ring of the courtyard, only vaguely noticing the pockets of landscaped gardens and other features carved into the earth. Guo Wei, who had been following her half a step behind, caught up as she passed by the ancient sundial. His lips were twitching, and there was nothing more irritating to Azula than someone who was holding something back.

“What is it, Guo Wei?” she snapped.

He swallowed.

  
“Princess,” he began, his use of her title not escaping her notice, “the dossiers you gave to the Fire Lord…”

She avoided his eye.

“Am I to understand you received that information from the contact I gave you?”

“This really isn’t the time to be talking about this.”

“Azula!”

Guo Wei grabbed her by the arm.

“Do you know what would happen to me if I am seen to be responsible for the apprehension of Fire Nation fugitives in the care of my contacts?”

Of course Azula knew. And of course it would get out that Guo Wei was the reason the Fire Nation knew about their location. For wasn’t every correspondence sealed with his wax stamp?

“That’s why you will come back to Caldera with me! I’m sure we can arrange for Kwan to come too, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

Guo Wei looked dumbfounded. Azula ripped her arm from his grasp.

  
“Now be quiet. Everything we say down here echoes throughout this whole complex.”

She returned to pacing around the courtyard, but this time, Guo Wei did not follow in her stead.

* * *

It was nightfall by the time Zuko reached his decision. Her return to the Fire Nation was conditional. 

The apprehension of the fugitives in the Earth Kingdom would be simple and clean, and if there were any evidence of forewarning, Azula would be barred from her homeland. 

If that condition was met, the announcement of her return would occur on Zuko’s terms, and in the manner which was most advantageous to him. Therefore, her freedom of movement within the Capital would be restricted until Zuko announced otherwise.

And finally, her presence in the Capital was contingent upon her loyalty. Any evidence of plots against her Brother, and she would be dealt with appropriately.

The first and third condition were straightforward enough. The second, however, bothered her. 

“What on earth do you mean you won’t announce my return immediately?”

Zuko and Iroh exchanged dark looks.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Azula. You don’t get to waltz back in whenever you like.”

“So where will you keep me?” she spluttered. “In a cell?”

“There are apartments sectioned off from the rest of the palace. You can stay there until I say so.”

“When I brought  _ you _ home, you received a national celebration! A hero’s welcome!”

Zuko’s lips formed a thin hard line.

  
“Take it or leave it, Azula.”

In the end she accepted. Although she was essentially being taken into custody, at least from the palace she would be able to lay the groundwork for a proper return. Zuko’s misguided mistrust be damned.  _ He will come around, once he gets over himself. _ And at least she would be spared from discovery by the Earth Kingdom. What else could she do but accept?

They spent the next few hours discussing the logistics of her return; she was to be sailed on a Fire Nation ship from Omashu to the Caldera Capital although only once the fugitives and traitors were in Fire Nation custody. It was an overall successful meeting, and she parted from her brother and Uncle with few harsh words shared, and a sense of hopeful elation. The carriage ride back to the ferry was altogether different.

Guo Wei did not speak to her. In fact, he stared straight ahead. They were almost at the wharf when Azula tried speaking with him.

“We’ll be able to set you up in a very elegant apartment, right in the centre of Caldera.”

He did not respond.

“And a job, if you like. You could consult on Earth Kingdom relations, if you get bored.”

“Azula, stop.”

But she was losing her patience and she did not stop.

“What is  _ wrong _ with you, Guo Wei?”

When he turned to look at her, he looked stricken.

“I never wanted to leave Omashu. But you’ve given me no choice.”

Azula’s cheeks burned.

“I’ve given you an excellent opportunity, and you’re complaining about it.”

He turned away from her and was quiet for the rest of the ride. But when the carriage at last came to a stop, he paused before exiting.

“I have done everything you’ve asked of me, and more. But you are filled with poison. And when one tries to suck it out of you, they become poisoned too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eesh not super happy w this one.. but i think i find zuko a bit boring to write? anyways hope that didnt translate into the writing but if it did? sowwy
> 
> so.. basically, azula is accepting cushy imprisonment bc there's no way zuko is gonna trust her unless she does something to prove she's not gonna mess w him. will it work? remains to be seen. also.. guo wei is big mad at her :( i dont think he gives a shit abt having a swanky fire nation apartment :(
> 
> tyzula stans, you'll be happy to note that ty lee is gonna be present for the remainder of this story! bc you know who else spends a lot of time in the fire nation palace? the kyoshi warriors! i know its been ages for her to really be a part of this fic, but we're entering the next major arc of the story and she's gonna be right at the centre of it. (btw i posted a [tyzula one shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852770)  
> between this and the last chapter if you havent seen it already)
> 
> would love to know your thots, likes dislikes etc. drop a comment and let me know. 
> 
> thanks for reading xxxx


	8. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula gets pwnd by the tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this probably needs a whole lot more editing but i just wanted it OUT
> 
> hope that you've had a nice christmas or hanukkah since i last posted (if thats something you celebrate) and that you have a happy new year!

It would only take  ten days  to reach Caldera. Ten days on the ironclad, a repurposed warship of distinct Fire Nation make that drew an unfortunate amount of attention in Omashu harbour. It was not the first ironclad to find itself in Omashu’s waters, and not the first to draw the ire of the local inhabitants.But it was the first to carry not one, but two members of the Fire Nation royal family aboard. It was certainly an inappropriate ship for the Fire Lord, and yet Zuko waited for her on board. Her transportation back the Caldera was not something he could trust with anyone but him it would seem. Him and his personal guard, the Kyoshi warriors. Well, not  _ his _ warriors; the warriors were his friends, but he claimed no ownership over them. For they were Suki’s warriors. She called her friends too, but she had earned her place at their helm. And they willingly followed her and looked to her for leadership when uncertainty struck, such as when Azula boarded the ship.

There were three of them in a line, although she only recognised Suki at their centre. Suki, who stared at her with such cold eyes, although Azula knew her voice to be warm and compelling. And the guard, a Fire Nation imperial soldier in commanding uniform, who chaperoned her to the cabin with Guo Wei at her back, who touched her elbow to steer her, although she was his Princess, and who flinched back when she looked at him with fury. And although she entered the dark cabin not chained but of her own volition, to be delivered back home almost entirely as a result of her own careful planning, her most charismatic persuasion, she had not prepared at all for the sense of unease that settled over her like dust. Afterall, it was only ten days, on a repurposed warship surrounded by her former enemies and friends whose betrayal had once gripped her like a vise.

The guard led the way through the dark passageways of the vessel, and Azula felt Guo Wei slow until he was a polite distance behind her. Ever since they had returned to Omashu from Bao’s estate, he had been perfectly polite, but the politeness came with a distance she had become unaccustomed to.

_ “I’m expecting to hear from Zuzu in the next couple of days. We’ll need to be ready to leave as soon as his hawke arrives.” _

_ Guo Wei did not answer. Instead he moved to remove his hat, and the travel coat he had been wearing as Azula hovered by the entrance. It was late in the night and living space was lit only by ambient moonlight through the window.. Guo Wei must have noticed this too, for he set about lighting the lamps with spark rocks. Azula resisted the urge to fidget with impatience at this cumbersome display, but resisted too the urge to simply light the lamps herself.  _

_ “You are coming, aren’t you?” _

_ The question fell limply from her mouth, and Guo Wei busied himself boiling water. _

_ “Guo Wei?” _

_ “I don’t have much choice in that matter.” _

_ This was hardly a comforting answer. Azula ventured to step further in from the threshold. From where she stood she could see the pearls of green tea slowly uncoiling in his cup. She had already apologised for her deception. A stunted and inelegant apology she had choked out, but a sincere one nonetheless. But as far as she could tell, it had made little difference to Guo Wei. _

_ “You obviously have a choice, just make it the right one.” _

_ The Princess paused and pursed her lips before continuing. _

_ “It would be dangerous for you to remain in the Earth KIngdom.” _

_ Guo Wei looked at her. _

_ “Just don’t be foolish.” _

In the end, the Mandarin was not a fool. But neither did his wilful calmness stir. And for her, that was worse than an outright display of anger.

The guard came to a stop, and knocked on a door to the right. He then entered, bowed, and allowed Azula and Guo Wei into the room, where Zuko stood waiting for them. He had opted for military armour instead of his formal Fire Lord robes. The crown still glinted in his hair, however, and he appeared more imposing in uniform than out of it. Azula felt Guo Wei bow beside her, but refrained from bowing herself. There were some things even she would never do, whatever protocol may dictate. And luckily, Zuko did not seem to care.

“Hello Zuzu. I would say what a nice ship you have but I was expecting something a little grander.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Azula saw the guard by the door glance up at the rust stains in the corners of the room. The corner of Guo Wei’s mouth twitched. She however kept her face neutral.

“You know a royal vessel could not come here without attracting attention. If the Omashu officials knew you were on this ship, we would not be allowed to leave this harbour.”

Zuko was no fun. He never could tell when she was joking. But upon hearing the mention of Omashu officials, Guo Wei cleared his throat, drawing Zuko’s attention to him. The new Fire Lord searched for his name, and when he failed to find it, Guo Wei offered it to him, politely, like he did not even notice Zuko struggling to identify him. And Zuko spluttered for a moment, before calling to the guard to show Guo Wei to his room. Both Azula and Zuko listened while their footsteps echoed down the hallway. It was just the two of them in the rusting old room now, with its makeshift desk covered in maps and papers. She decided to address the obvious.

“You’re not going to show me to the brig?”

Zuko looked at her from under his brows.

“No.”

He exhaled deeply.

“You can go anywhere on the ship you want.”

Azula narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You’re not worried I’ll commandeer the ship while you sleep?” she said, with a note of sarcasm in her voice. A note that Zuko missed.

“There are about twenty Kyoshi warriors walking these halls. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Twenty…?”

The Princess stumbled over her thoughts. So Zuko had decided to secure the ironclad, and her along with it, by completely outnumbering her with the Earth Kingdom warriors. This was the price of her freedom to move about the ship, she supposed. There had only been three on the deck, including their steadfast leader, and their remaining numbers must now be patrolling the rooms and hallways. And, among them, perhaps -”

“Yes twenty of them. And Ty Lee has been teaching them chi blocking, so don’t think of trying anything.”

The hairs on the back of her neck raised. The Kyoshi Warriors had been worthy enemies, and ones whose skills she had respected, even in their defeat. To think of them being capable of halting the flow of her chi to a trickle... Worse still, that Ty Lee had instructed them was enough to make her blood run cold. She looked at her Brother, who was practically glowering at her, and wondered why he’d even bother let her roam the ship, if he were to threaten her in such a way. 

“Are you done?” she asked in a cutting voice. “I’ve done everything I said I would. I’ve held up my end of the bargain.”

“We’ll see about that, Azula,” he said darkly, as the guard appeared back at the door. “Show her to her quarters.”

As it turned out, Azula’s quarters were comfortable, and in far better condition than the makeshift office that Zuko had established. For all his bluster, he had decided that she at least deserved privacy, a soft bed, and red furnishing bearing the regal flame of the Fire Nation. Even if, upon closer inspection, the furnishings appeared to be hung up to hide the worst of the water damage, she took comfort that this was not yet, in fact, another cell, but rather the best that could be mustered up for the Princess in this hulking old ship. She unpacked those of her belongings that needed to be unpacked and listened to the groaning gears underneath her as the ship left the harbour. The humming engine could be felt on every surface. Lying back on the cot by the wall, she looked at the red of the wall hangings and felt her teeth chatter.

* * *

Despite being able to walk freely throughout the ship, Azula found she stayed mainly in the room she had been given. It would be another couple of days before Zuko heard word from his agents charged with apprehending the men Azula had delivered to him. Until then, her freedom was provisional. Better to grow used to the confines of her room now than to miss the free movement around the ship later, or so she told herself. 

There was that and the fact that the vessel was filled with her people who wished her nothing but harm. She had tried to skirt the main arterial hallway of the ship, hoping that by sticking to the pokey side passages she would avoid the Kyoshi Warriors who gathered in groups to laugh and converse, and who would stare daggers at her as she walked, chin raised high in the air, past. They wore their armour and their makeup on the ship, Azula noticed. In the middle of the Eastern Sea, there was no reason to expect hostility unless it was from Azula herself. A reasonable caution, she surmised, and even an effective tactic of intimidation she begrudgingly admitted. The worst part was the few moments it took to scan their ranks to find Ty Lee among their numbers. And although they had not yet crossed paths, the disorienting collection of red on white on green on black was enough to contain Azula to her room. And Guo Wei? Guo Wei she left to himself. The bad blood between them was not something she wanted to spill over, and besides, she could not yet bear to behold the cold marble of his face. She had enough enemies on this ship.

It was in the mornings, then, when the sun had not yet even broken over the cold night’s horizon that she left her room. She stepped quietly through the halls, seen only by the faceless imperial guards who stood straighter when she passed, and then up to the deck. She found shelter from the furious wind at the base of the smoke stack. Through the fence railing that surrounded the stack, she could see the entirety of the deck, but might not herself be seen at first glance. 

But she found that she was the only person on the deck so early in the morning. And with the westerly wind so warm and sweet scented, she spent these early mornings with her eyes shut, listening and breathing in time with each crash of stem into the body of an oncoming wave. Unlike the flimsy wood of Ting Hua’s sailing boat, she found the heavy body of the ironclad, with its ever-present mechanical hum, the reliable groan of its engine gears and burning of coal, was a comfort rather than being disruptive to her mediations.

So the Princess pulled her hair from its tie and allowed it to be blown about her face, and took in the air mixed with soot. Even with the sun barely visible, she could feel the movement and energy of her element. And although the ocean around her was cold, the heat of her homeland blew around her, the shadow of its power in the black soot that coated all surfaces beneath the smoke stack. And her thoughts wandered, as she took all this in; in what unexpected places did benders of other nations find the call of their element? 

She would sit like that, legs crossed and eyes shut, feeling warmth around her as if her very own blood was extended outwards to the sky above until it reached the gilded clouds that were just touched by the edge of the sun. She drew it back to her where it expanded and strengthened in her chest. Even during her darkest hours, she could light a spark that could bring down a nation; mechanical precision like sharp teeth of a gear that moved battleships across oceans. This was something different. Before the sun had even cleared the horizon, she would leave. She would skulk back into her room in an exercise in restraint, no matter how much she would love to bask, or better yet, stretch and train. For it had been many months since she had been able to move to create fire, or even to hone her basics fire bending stances lest an Earth Kingdom dolt happened across her and revealed her identity to the world. The lack of discipline and routine pained her, but the fear of being caught out had been greater.

On this particular morning, the sky was clear save for a wispy ripples far above that sung gold and pink against tiny pricks of starlight, and the temptation to stay a little longer was too great even for Azula. She was even considering gently moving through her katas in the early morning light when from the hatch emerged two casually dressed girls her own age. It took her a moment to realise they were Kyoshi Warriors out of uniform, although not ones she recognised. Unaware of her presence (they did not look behind them, scanning the deck before stepping onto it like she did), they walked hand in hand to the rail to watch the sun rise from the stern of the ship.

Azula considered leaving immediately, maybe even secretly so they would never know she was there, but she was struck by the easy affection they showed each other.  _ Besides _ , she thought,  _ I was here first _ . She could hear their voices across the deck, carried by the wind. They were discussing the latest combat drills they were learning as a group, but the conversation turned quickly to how quickly the sun warmed up the air, and the strange hours they were keeping aboard the ship. Perfectly mundane conversation made electric by their clear-as-day intimacy. It set off a cold drip in her heart that would quickly become a flood, and she made to move from the base of the smoke stack, still unseen by the pair of warriors, when a familiar flurry of footsteps sounded by the door to the deck.

The Princess caught sight of Ty Lee’s very tired looking face as she ran past, not seeing Azula obscured behind the railing around the steam stack. She walked with a skip, slowing as she approached the pair, and hesitated, only for a moment, seeing their hands linked across the deck rail. Ty Lee announced her presence by throwing her arms around each of their shoulders, giving them both a fright that turned into laughter when they realised who it was. And from her mouth streamed excuses as to why she had overslept that nobody believed but that she told anyway with a smile on her sleepy face and they skipped chastising her to point out the morning star that was not yet eclipsed by the rising sun. The group fell silent as they looked, until Ty Lee teasingly said “how romantic.” But her tone was not mocking, as it so often when she said similar things to Mai and Zuko, but mainly sweet, with her darkening eyes the only hint of melancholy. 

When the other two warriors simply responded with a smile, Ty Lee took a step back and fidgeted with her hands for a moment, yawned with a stretch, and then bent backwards into a handstand. In her casual clothes of baby blue and pink, with no heavy armoured skirt to fall over her face, she looked straight at Azula, blinking slowly. If the blood were not rushing to her face, she might have gone pale.

“Oh, hi Azula,” she said, somewhat lamely.

The two other Kyoshi Warriors snapped around, and looked from Ty Lee to Azula. They looked alarmed, as if it was Azula who had ambushed them here, and not them intruding on her morning meditation. Of all the ways to see Ty Lee again, this hardly ranked among her preferences. She uncrossed her legs and drew her knees to her chest.

“How… how long have you been there for?” one of the Kyoshi Warriors asked.

“About an hour, if you must know. But I am just leaving,” Azula replied waspishly.

She waited to see if anyone had anything else to say before rising to her feet. Without so much as a backwards glance, she returned to her room.

* * *

Days passed by, each the same as the last. Until one afternoon she was summoned to Zuko’s office.

The guard ahead of her knocked on Zuko’s door, but Azula stepped through without waiting for a reply. She came face-to-face with Suki, whose smile quickly fell off her painted face. Suki, more than anyone else on the ship, bore the largest grudge against Azula that was not offset by some meagre thread of shared history or kinship. And besides perhaps Zuko, she was the least likely to hide it. Although she was only a bodyguard, she did not defer to Azula in the slightest, and that irritated the Princess more than anything.

“Azula,” Zuko, seated at a chair behind his desk, interrupted before she could open her mouth.

Suki tore her eyes away from Azula’s, and spoke to Zuko.

“I’ll be leaving now. We can speak later,” she said, looking meaningfully at Zuko.

Zuko nodded, and as she stepped through the door, Azula added, “As you should.”

Before Suki could respond, Azula shut the door in her face.

“Really Zuzu, letting a bodyguard act so rudely to your own sister! Well, it doesn’t bother me that much. She’s probably still upset that I destroyed her in our last battle,” she smiled malevolently. 

“But what would Mai say if she saw you having private meetings with that girl. I won’t let you hurt my old friend like that.”

“What are you talking about? Suki is my friend! And Mai wants nothing to do with you!”

It was Azula whose face turned from a smug leer to a sour pout. She folded her arms, and looked around the room.

Zuko ran his fingers along the edge of his scar until his fingers reached his hairline, where he then swept the wisps of hair from his forehead. After a deep sigh, he spoke in a quiet voice.

  
  


“I received word from Yu Dao.”   
  


Azula’s eyes narrowed.

“And?”

Zuko ran his fingers through his hair again and smiled bitterly.

“It went off without a hitch. One man, Admiral Chue got away, but that was because my agents got sloppy.”

“So then, what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

Zuko leaned back into his chair, still wearing that silly grimace. Irritated, Azula rolled her eyes.

“I told you my word is good, Zuzu. Now, what are you going to do with them?”

“They’ll get what they deserve.”

“And what is that, exactly? Imprisonment? Execution?”

“I don’t know yet!”

The candle on the wall flared. Azula let it die down before speaking again.

“Do what you must. But if I were you, I would play my cards carefully.”

‘Well, you’re not me, and you don’t get to make those decisions. I do!”

She had clearly hit a nerve. Zuko looked ready to jump to his feet, but before he did, Azula rose to take her leave.

“Just think about it.”

* * *

With the fugitives in the Earth Kingdom apprehended Azula should have felt more comfortable walking about the ship. “Should” being the operative word. When she went to the mess hall mid morning a day or so before their arrival she found Zuko chatting and smiling with a couple of Kyoshi Warriors, and Guo Wei sitting quietly with a cup of tea. When she was met with icy silence from the trio, she sat by Guo Wei, who barely reacted at all to her arrival. Tapping her foot in irritation, she was pouring herself a cup of tea from his pot when their eyes met. It occurred to her then that Guo Wei was just as ostracised on the ship filled with Earth KIngdom warriors as she was, for surely they would have heard of his duplicity during the war. They would not know, as she did, of just how duplicitous he was, helping the both resistance and occupiers in turn.

“Has your trip been a pleasant one, Guo Wei?”

He wiped droplets of sweat from his neat moustache with his pinkie finger.

“No.”

Azula “hmphed” in amusement. 

“Will you be glad to arrive in Caldera soon, then?”

Guo Wei placed his cup back on the table surface.

“No, Azula, not particularly.”

She left her cup unfinished and returned to her room. 

And there she stayed, until, through the tiny porthole in her room, she saw land. The black jagged cliffs surrounding Dragon’s Jaw Bay were slowly growing larger. It could only be a couple more hours to reach Caldera, and even fewer to reach the Harbour CIty where they would disembark. Only two years ago she had landed there to a crowd of thousands, with her Brother in tow. It had been a hero’s welcome, and one well deserved after their monumental effort in the Earth Kingdom. She returned now as the troubled sister to the Fire Lord, a fugitive, and a secret to be kept hidden away from the world at large. Glory was only of peripheral interest to her, but this still felt bittersweet. Rather than sulk in her room, she walked to the deck to watch the gates go past; her last few hours of fresh air before she was tucked away into a carriage to Caldera. 

The deck was almost empty when she got there. She scowled at first, disappointed she would be subject to dark looks and obvious discomfort. Until she recognised the figure as Ty Lee, quite lost in thought as she looked out at the great bronze dragon to the south. Even from where she stood, Azula could see she was in a peculiar mood. Dazed and absent, like she could be thinking one hundred things at once or none at all. She considered leaving without a word, leaving the girl to mull until it passed her by. But that would be a cowardly thing to do, and Ty Lee heard the door groan behind her. She turned quickly on the spot. 

Azula saw, rather than heard the small “oh,” that passed through her lips. She did not look alarmed, or even worried at the sight of Azula. Instead, she only looked surprised, as if she had forgotten there was anyone else on the ship at all. 

Azula hesitated by the door. Their encounters so far had been either confrontational or fleeting. Things between them were utterly fraught, and the Princess oscillated between desperately wanting to seek Ty Lee out, and, when confronted with her presence, never wanting to see her again. She was pulled taut by these competing desires, leaving her immobile, until Ty Lee turned back towards the railing. It almost seemed like an invitation. It was the hint of a welcome that won her over. So she walked to the railing at the edge of the ship, a few metres from where Ty Lee was standing, but so that she could see her from the corner of her eye. Neither of them spoke, so she turned her attention to the dragon in front of her. The Southern Dragon of the gate was a depiction of one the two dragons her Uncle slayed in the name of Azulon. And it was the first sign of home.

To avoid being trapped in the net that hung from the great dragon’s mouth, the ironclad would need to turn north-west, but for now it followed the shallows along the cliffs. A larger ship would sail through the deeper waters in the centre of the bay, but the ironclad maneuvered through the rocks and coral that jutted above the waves in the low tide. Azula was not thinking about the rocks, and she was not thinking about the tide. She was thinking how Ty Lee looked just as thoughtful as she, worrying her lip absentmindedly. And in stealing glances sideways, lining up exactly what she wanted to say to Ty Lee before their privacy was interrupted, she did not notice the jet of water that was sent upwards when the ship passed far too close by a protruding rock. It was only at the last moment that she sent out a wave of fire to evaporate the spray. It was not quick enough to spare her robes from becoming sodden, or to prevent a face full of salt water that made her splutter. Because of the positioning of them both along the rail, Ty Lee was, for the most part, dry. So instead of squealing for the shock of the cold water, the acrobat let out a brief laugh at the sight of Azula dripping wet.

Fat droplets ran down her spine, and her hair was perfectly drenched. If she were not already drying off her clothes with her bending, the blood in her cheeks might be warm enough to send the sea water, shockingly cold against her sun warmed skin, into coiling spirals of steam.

Azula flicked her hair out of her eyes and looked over to Ty Lee, who was looking right back at her. Her laugh was still ringing in Azula’s ears, although it had stopped as soon as it had started. Instead, she looked like she was fighting back a smile; not exactly cruel, but not particularly kind either. She turned away again, and Azula saw her mouth a word that could have been “splash,” more to herself than anything. Not many people laughed at Azula, and even fewer when she was not laughing herself. Zuko would have laughed at that, and she would have responded by setting his clothes on fire, or maybe by burning off his hair. But she could hardly do the same to Ty Lee. So she tried sniping back.

“If I hadn’t blocked that wave,  _ you _ would be wet too.”

She had never needed to chastise Ty Lee before. It sounded unpractised.

Ty Lee looked all of a sudden doleful.

“Thank-you,” she said flatly. “But I don’t mind the water.”

Azula had to fight off the desire to scoff. As much as Ty Lee liked playing at the beach, she would have hated to wet her hair at a time like this. It would take over a day to dry and she would sulk the entire time. But Azula did not want to scoff and she did not want to fight, however petty Ty Lee was being. She bit her lip while trying her best to dry off her clothes and shake the water from her hair. Once she had stopped the worst of the dripping she tried again to put together a sentence that did not sound like a threat. 

“You know Ty Lee, I have you to thank for being here.”

Ty Lee’s brow furrowed. She looked over at her questioningly.

“I don’t think Zuzu would have agreed to meet with me if you had not delivered him that letter,” she said, stretching her hand down to inspect her nails, before looking back at Ty Lee. 

Ty Lee’s frown grew deeper.

“I’m here because of you too.”

Now Azula was confused.

“With you coming back home, almost all of us have been called to serve in Caldera.”

_ “Us.” The Kyoshi Warriors.  _

_ Was that why she was looking so… sad? _

Was she sad too, all those years ago on the trip back from Ember Island when they watched the gates as they passed? When she placed her hand on the rail next to Azula’s, so close they were almost touching? When she looked over her shoulder and smiled, not unkindly but as if to dare her to move a little closer still?

Azula swallowed down the lump like poison in her throat.

“I won’t make you regret helping me, Ty Lee.”

Ty Lee shut her eyes for a moment, and then looked back out to sea. They stayed out there, together but apart, until the Southern Dragon was long behind them. Neither of them knew whether there was truth to Azula’s words, but it did not stop them from hoping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> evewwybodyyy hates azuwwllaaa and she's feelin it. poor baby
> 
> lemme know what your thoughts were. you know i love hearing them <3333


	9. The Prettiest Cage, The Strangest Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> home sweet home ft some scheming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soz for the posting delay. been firming up plans for the third act which involved revising the plot for the current act and couldnt write this until that was done. hope its worth the wait

Azula awoke in a dark room. Her dark room, in fact. But looking around, the shapes of the shadows and the corners of the room were strange to her. The lamps had burnt through their oil overnight, and there was only a crack of light peering in through the window. Which, a weak and tepid light, barely made the dark lacquered wood discernible from the furniture that sat about the sparse room. She had woken to the ghost of fingertips tracing her skin. Soft and joyful, darning over holes left by rough hands and sweat and fear. But there was only so much gentle hands can do before they are lost in the dark of this room. Lying very still with bleary eyes half opened, she waited, hoping the memories would pass her by unharmed. Like she would be too small to see, dwarfed in a bed far too large for a child.

She had kept strange hours since arriving. Strange hours in the strange room. She had slept in many strange beds since her break from the asylum. The nook of a tree, a cave by the road, a barn and a boat. None unnerved her like this grand suite, set apart from the palace but surrounded by its walls and gardens. It was exactly like her room in the palace. Dull from disuse, it was like the spirit of them had faded while she had been away. Her belongings and trinkets were arranged _ just so _ in this new room. She might have believed they had always been here were it not for a servant’s hurried fingerprint smudged on the bronze of her mirror. It caught her eye immediately, so out of place while all other surfaces were spotless. Upon arriving she had wiped it off with her sleeve, but it had merely smeared over the shined surface. 

Looking around the room from her vantage in the bed, these items were ever so slightly displaced, their alignment with the layers of memory was ever so slightly off. The uncanny was not something she could tolerate as she came too from the whispers of sleep. From her bed she rose, the candles and lanterns burning blue then settling to a gentle warm glow. Without bothering to open her window to allow sunlight seep in through the mist, she changed by her dresser into light training clothes.

With her sleeping gown discarded by her feet, she did not look at the trinkets on the dresser. She did not look at the comb carved from bone her mother had given her as a child. She did not look at the maps with brown and curling corners in a teetering pile on her desk. She did not stop to admire the printed silk fan folded shut, a memento from a performance of her favourite opera. There were letters folded in her writing desk that she would never read again, too afraid to open the draw in case she saw they had been opened and read in her absence, but now she did not spare then a stray thought. Past the bookcases, past the sitting room with its station for tea, she strided into the open courtyard surrounded by walls where she could burn fire so hot it could cut through metal.

Of all the features of this apartment, the courtyard was one she appreciated the most. To be able to bend again, freely and without restraint, was a privilege the Princess had sorely missed. It had been years, now, since she had been able to firebend openly. Her frustrations and sorrows were distilled and clarified, excised from her person with burning precision until the only pain was in her groaning limbs and smoking finger tips. It was achingly familiar, but different too. She was clumsy like a child, and elated like one too. Mistakes and missteps were acceptable as long as she could bend.

But she was under no illusions. It was the prettiest cage she had found herself in but a cage nonetheless. A cage complete with guards and watching eyes. They were her audience. She searched the rooftops for them, passing over conspicuous bushes and unmarked cracks in stone where she knew yet another guardsman was waiting, looking for signs of escape or trouble. They were there to safeguard her too, of course. Her security was as important as the Fire Lord’s, for danger towards her indicated a danger to him also. Aside from the stone centre of the courtyard where she did her training, there was a corner of green. And if she were so inclined, she might sit beneath the plum tree there. But she was not so inclined, preferring to do her relaxing in her strange parlour where at least she could imagine she was not being kept under guard and key.

Her presence here was not entirely a secret. Other than the guards there were the servants who tended to her. Included in amongst them were many new faces, but some old too, who had avoided banishment from her on the day of Sozin’s comet, or were at least still willing to serve her. The Kyoshi warriors of course, who never intruded on her, but walked past the entrance to her suite. And then, there were the two guests she had invited to join her that afternoon.

Entering the shade of her rooms, Azula could see servants had come and gone, tidying her bed and arranging fresh flowers (fire lilies this time) around the room. Her bath was already drawn and scented with oils. In the past, there would be several servants attending to her as she bathed. Instead, she bathed alone, preferring not to submerge herself in front of cold eyes but to go as slowly or quickly as she pleased, half the time standing by the edge and only using a cloth to clean herself. Today she wanted to soak. Her training had been light by the standards of her past, but her muscles were weak and her form was sloppy. It was not unexpected, but the dull throb was an unwelcome reminder of how far she had fallen. She bent the water uncomfortably hot, less to soothe than to mark red the parts of her that needed changing. She ran her fingers along her skin, lines that turned from red to white.

The Princess wanted to look  _ presentable _ , but not overdressed.  _ Dignified _ , but not formal. To have the option of such a thing was a luxury she was still not used to. But she allowed her servants to undress her, and when her guests arrived, she felt somewhat put together. It was silly to care, really. Her invitation alone should be enough to please anyone. Her appearance was for her; evidence that she would never again be that girl in the throne room. White lines on red.

It was silly to feel nervous when Lo and Li were led into the sitting room where Azula was waiting for them. And it was silly that her eyes burned when they smiled and bowed, worry etched onto the lines of their faces as much as it was laced into her shoulders and neck, instead of scowling with suspicion. They spoke together, and the sound of their voices in unison reverberated with a warmth she was ashamed to be moved by.

“Princess Azula!” they said together.

“It is our honour-”

“-to share a meal with you.’

  
Despite their age, their joints were used to the deepest of kowtows. Decades of practice. Advisors, tutors, and teachers, they had raised her from a distance. But she had failed to heed their last counsel. It occurred to her only after some weeks in the asylum that they may have been right; that her rush to banish all of her staff on the way to inauguration might have been its own kind of betrayal. Their outspokenness might have been a treason, yes, not against her, but against the Phoenix King himself. Her wellbeing was not the concern of her Father, but it had been of them. It occurred to her then that the banishment of one or the other (she never could tell which) might have been a mistake. Another bridge burnt on the road to ruin.

So when her return to the palace was greeted with welcome instead of scorn, Azula was determined to close that distance, if only a little. Not a hug; such a thing would be met with scolding and shaken off far too soon. Instead she clasped one of each of their hands, knobbled like miniature banyan trees and helped them to the floor. It was she who poured them tea. They drank together in silence, and Azula pretended not to see their shared glances, the critical way in which they regarded her attempt at tea making. It would have been unthinkable, once upon a time, but they allowed her to serve them. For that she was grateful. The meal, plates upon plates of pickled vegetables and fish, were passed with much of the same silence, besides a gentle reprimand:

“Eat more, Princess.”

“You are looking thin.”

“And if you wish to continue to train as you have been-”

“-You will need to recover your strength.”

It was its own kind of caring, she supposed. They never asked where she had been, or what she had been through, nor did she offer an account of her experiences. But, there was a softer edge to their voices that, from them, seemed like indulgence. Azula did not know whether she appeared fragile to them, in her voice or manner, or whether they were simply acting on rumours that had undoubtedly been spreading in the court since her deposition. In either case, should she ever be free of this suite, she could not appear to be compromised. To be disgraced and dishonoured was one thing; to be mentally unsound was altogether another.

At the end of the meal they bowed again, and Azula invited them back again. There were precious few people willing to speak to her, let alone share a meal. It was silly, but even if they did smell like old musk, their company was desperately welcome. And besides, there were questions that Azula needed answers to. In this place of lies and betrayal, their counsel would not be ignored again.

They came to Azula’s suite once or twice a week from then on. With no word from Zuko on when she might be welcomed back to the court, Lo and Li became a window into the happenings of the palace. Under Zuko’s rule, the twins held a far more peripheral role than they had under Ozai. Advisor’s to the crown still, for they seemed as much a part of the court as the role of Fire Lord itself. But, they told her over cooling pots of sencha, they were rarely consulted by Zuko, nor his circle of counsellors; a ragtag bunch of elevated civil servants who had little to gain by defying his whims.

“We are getting old, Azula.”

“And much here has changed.”

They shared a look; perfect mirrors. Azula swallowed down an impatient sigh.

“Your Brother fears betrayal at every turn.”

“Even from us.”

“Especially from us,” one of them said as an aside, giving Azula a meaningful look.

“Why should he? Does he think you were too close to-” the Princess began, but the last words got caught in her throat.

”Your Father,” one of them finished for her gravely.

They were all quiet for a moment, and the twins surveyed her as she took a sip of tea. The hush that fell over them was like that of a funeral. 

“We should be grateful.”

“Our fate is better than many.”

“The Fire Lord has taken a firm stance against the last council.”

They did not need to explain what, exactly, had happened to the leadership of the old regime. Her own gilded cage looked all the prettier in the wake of this news.

“A sure way to make opposition where there should be none,” Azula offered.

Neither responded, other than to twitch at the corners of their mouths. 

“There is value in a firm hand, guiding the nation,” said one.

“But only if it is in service _ to _ the nation,’ said the other.

Azula waited for them to continue, for this was as directly critical of Zuko as they had so far been. But in unison, the twins changed the topic, a pantomime of bickering over the last of the dango. If not the Fire Nation, who then was Zuko acting in service of in the eyes of the court? 

The answer came to her in the unexpected form of a flower. LIttle changed in her life from day-to-day. She woke, she trained, she bathed, she ate, she whiled away the hours of her afternoons. She had consumed the contents of her childhood bookcase within weeks and had requested several more shelves worth of historical and political treatise, and Fire Nation literary canon. On this day, instead of training in her courtyard as she usually did, Azula was curating a small pile to be sent to Guo Wei. It was something of a welcome gift made up of some of her most cherished titles, thinking she would ask Lo (or Li) to deliver it to him in his Caldera apartment, along with guidance of how to conduct himself in the eye of the Fire Nation noble storm. Undoubtedly it would do little to repair their relations, but she could at least return his hospitality from her stay in Omashu. But she was interrupted by a servant sliding open the door to her room. She must have only been 14 or 15, and she almost dropped the flowers she was carrying into the room when she saw Azula kneeling on the floor. The look of fright was quickly replaced by one far more demure, as the servant girl looked to her feet and murmured apologies as she moved to back out of the room. 

“You may as well do what you need to while you’re here,” Azula said as she looked back to the pile of books forming in front of her.

Azula did not up again until she had almost finished, when the pink of the flower caught her eye. She stood to inspect them: the petals were paper thin, pink in the centre and increasingly pale towards the tips. Frivolous things, they clashed horribly with the dark wood and red varnish of the table they were placed upon. They were the kinds of flowers Ty Lee would love, and she didn’t know why they were here. 

“What flowers are these?” she asked sharply of the servant.

The girl had a look of momentary horror at being addressed so directly by Azula, and Azula felt a twinge in her stomach as she realised the servant’s nervousness may have less to do with her station than her reputation as the Mad Princess, who banished the entirety of her personal staff not so long ago. She felt a prickle of irritation, and something else she could not quite place, less so at the servants reaction to her, and more so that she cared. For what did it matter to her whether lowly house staff lived in fear that one day she might snap again? And yet it did seem to matter, so she softened her voice when she spoke again.

“I’ve never seen them here in the palace before.”

She touched a petal lightly with the tip of her thumb.

“They are tree peonies, Princess.”

She pressed down on the petal with her nail, testing how much force was needed for it to bruise.

_ Peonies. Peonies falling from the branch onto dappled grass on a warm afternoon. Heavy soldier’s boots trample over the grass, and an acrobat cartwheels to it and places it behind her ear. A memento, she says, from Ba Sing Se. But it begins to go brown before the ship has even left the dock. _

“Why are you placing Earth Kingdom flowers in my rooms?”

While the servant spoke, she gazed determinedly at the floor.

“We have been cultivating them in the gardens as a symbol of our goodwill, to honour the guests staying in the palace.”

Her voice was almost too quiet to hear, and Azula clicked her tongue in impatience.    
  
“What guests?” she hissed.

The servant shook where she stood, and Azula would have felt sorry for her if it was not taking the girl so long to answer her. 

“The diplomatic party,” she finally said, raising her eyes to meet Azula’s. “From Ba Sing Se.”

Azula stood very still as questions cascaded through her mind, one after another. None could be answered at present, so she turned her attention to the problem of the flowers themselves. With a lazy hand, she gestured around the room.

“Do you see any diplomats here?”

“No, Princess.”

“Then get these out of my sight,” she said, her voice like ice.

The servant fell upon herself, uttering apologies and bowing deeply, but Azula had already turned away, thinking hard. An entire garden of flowers cultivated for highly esteemed Earth Kingdom diplomats was one thing. To decorate an entire palace with them was another. What on earth was Zuko thinking? Had the integrity of Caldera been compromised so completely? If any of the nobility from her Father’s reign still remained in power, this seemed an ideal way to alienate them. And she could not help but wonder about Zuko’s declaration: that her return to the capital would occur at a time advantageous to _ him _ . These diplomats would surely be as offended by her presence here in Caldera, in relative freedom, as she was with their intrusion on her homeland’s capital.

So consumed with thought, she almost did not hear the servant leaving the room, vase in hand. Azula realised she had been staring absently at her, much to the girl’s discomfort. Things needed to be put in order. Starting with the flowers.

“You. Wait.”

The servant turned to her in trepidation. 

“The Kyoshi warriors are here in the palace, yes?”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Then send those flowers to them. To honour their stay here, of course.”’

Once the servant had left with a final bow, Azula sprung into a quick pace, her mind moving faster than her feet. And as she walked back and forth across the room, the corners of the walls pressed in a little closer. Wasn’t it awful to be so impotent in this seat of power? To watch, first from a distance, and then from so very close, as the last of what she held so dear was fractured before her.

There were three vultures circling, and their names were Ba Sing Se.

She decided to address Zuko directly. Upon her writing desk, she wrote a letter. The tone, she decided, was a breath away from accusatory. She demanded to know what the occasion was for their honoured guests to be staying in the palace, what acquiescence she could expect next from her FIre Lord to the vultures from the city of walls, and how long, exactly, he expected to keep her to her apartment. The rebuke was clumsy written in their childhood code, but what else could she do from behind the locked doors of her rooms?

She received his reply a few days later. And it was nothing short of an affront.

This same servant girl stood before her while she stood half undressed for her bath, blistered and dripping with sweat.

“The Fire Lord begs your forgiveness. He is waylaid by appointments, and will not be able to reply to your message.”

The only person Azula had seen Zuko beg was their Father. The comparison between that day that marked Zuko forever and their current situation was so ludicrous that it could only occur by the well meaning elaborations of a servant desperate not to offend her. But a snub was a snub. There was static between her fingertips, and, closing her eyes for a moment, she wondered, not for the first time, how it would have felt to have done more than to leave that second ugly scar on her Brother.

‘And the Kyoshi Warriors send their thanks.”

Azula’s eyes snapped open.

“What?”   
  


“The Kyoshi Warriors send their thanks for the flowers you sent them, Princess. They have been put in their rooms.”

The Princess scoffed.

“If they really were grateful they would have sent a note,” she haughtily replied.

In truth, she would be surprised if the flowers had ended up anywhere other than a bin. They were intended as an insult and nothing more. But from the exchange she had learnt one thing. The warriors were staying in the palace, not in the surrounding city as she might have expected. And then, she was stuck, as if by lightning, by an idea.

She looked at the servant with an appraising eye. With rounded cheeks and plain hair, she cut an unassuming figure. In the palace, very little went unnoticed. This was a trait that could not be underestimated.

“Say, did you take the flowers there yourself?” Azula asked nonchalantly.

“Yes Princess, I did exactly as you asked.”

She looked down at the floor, and Azula watched, weighing her options, deciding on what tone to strike. She was meek from terror; Azula could afford to be kind.

“You  _ have _ done exactly as I’ve asked.”

Azula considered her as the girl seemed to hold her breath.   
  
“What is your name?”

She gave a start.

“Yuza, Princess.”

“Well Yuza,” she said with a wicked smile, “there are some things I need you to get for me.”

* * *

Azula decided to soak that day. She held her hands under the water, the heat stinging her fingertips still raw from her training. If she concentrated she could feel the way the water circled upwards, turning into steam at the surface. It was strange how fire could take many forms. Sometimes it would burn, sometimes it would shock, sometimes it turned water into steam.

Yuza had put camellia’s in her bathroom today. She would remember to thank her later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo if that was a little weird and disjointed and stuffy i hope it wasnt too annoying to read. these more passive chapters are always a little difficult to write and im not entirely happy with how it turned out. but the good news is the next couple of chapters are gonna be more action packed and ive been sitting on some of these scenes since august last year. so..... i think you're gonna like them :)
> 
> azula is back baby and she's still scaring the shit out of her servants! whoops. guess some things never change :'( it actually pained me to write her being mean to yuza ... but i think its how she would be. something i really believe is that a lot of her flaws are tied up with her power and station over others, and being back in caldera is gonna bring up a lot of her old demons. its all just part of her journey i guess. 
> 
> i would love to hear your thoughts my dear readers. what do you think azula is scheming? is she going to set fire to every peony in the palace? is she going to sit in that bathtub until her fingers wrinkle? is she gonna be trapped in sleep paralysis and never wake up from a bad dream? all shall be revealed.
> 
> p.s. got some tyzula stuff + fire nations sibs stuff coming up in the next couple of chapters of this fic so buckle up
> 
> p.s.s if you cbf waiting for those to be posted, i posted a lil tyzula fluff piece for femslash week you should check out if you hadn't already

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on tumblr @[azuwulastan](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/azuwulastan) for writing updates and atla bullshit posting


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